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PUSS-IN-BOOTS, Jr., and 
The Good Gray Horse 
By DAVID CORY 




Harper & Brothers 

Established 1817 




Class 

Book. 


7.10 




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COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 


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PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 
THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


Books by 

DAVID CORY 

PUSS IN BOOTS, Jr., AND THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 
PUSS IN BOOTS, Jr., AND TOM THUMB 
PUSS IN BOOTS, Jr., AND OLD MOTHER GOOSE 
PUSS IN BOOTS, Jr., IN NEW MOTHER GOOSE LAND 
THE ADVENTURES OF PUSS IN BOOTS, Jr. 
FURTHER ADVENTURES OF PUSS IN BOOTS, Jr. 
PUSS IN BOOTS, Jr., IN FAIRYLAND 
TRAVELS OF PUSS IN BOOTS, Jr. 


HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK 
[Established 1817 ] 


RissinBooUT i: 

and The Good Gray Horse 

• by David;^lCory • 



TWILIGHT TALES . 

Harper & Brothers, Publishers 




Puss IN Boots, Jr., and the Good Gray Horse 


Copyright, 1921. by Harper & Brothers 
Printed in the United States of America 
G-V 

AUG 27 ^022570 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The Magic Wings 1 

The Hold-up 6 

Willow Tree' Inn 9 

The Robber Fairies 12 

Bicycle Puss 15 

Puss Recovers His Steed ‘ 18 

Georgy Porgy 21 

A Jolly Gallop 23 

The Runaway 26 

Humpty-bumpty 29 

The Haymow 32 

Chauffeur Taffy 35 

Three Little Kittens 37 

Mr. Rat 40 

A Big Tumble 43 

Hungry Kittens 46 

Kittens Wash Mittens 49 

Pie for Mrs. Mouse 52 

Sing a Song of Sixpence 54 

Doctor Foster 57 

A Miscount 60 

Plum Pudding Story 64 

“One I Love, Two I Love” 67 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Little Jenny Wren 69 

The Mischievous Raven 71 

Candy Town 73 

The Bramble-bush Man 76 

Daffy-down-dilly 78 

“Donkey, Donkey, Old and Gray” 81 

“Tick, Tack, Too” 84 

Lullaby Baby 87 

The Fire 90 

The Old Woman’s Riddle 93 

The Cobbler 95 

Doctor Drake 98 

“No Bigger than My Thumb” 101 

Tell-tale-tit 104 

On the Way 106 

Little Boy Blue 109 

Alphabet Town 112 

Lucy Locket 114 

Tom, the Piper’s Son . 117 

Old Dame Trot 119 

Bobby Shafto 121 

Little Robin Redbreast 124 

The Elf Child 127 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 
THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 



PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 
THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


THE MAGIC WINGS 
NE morning as little Puss, Junior, on his 



Good Gray Horse rode through Mother 
Goose country he saw a spider sitting in her tiny 
lace house. She kept very still, for the early 
dewdrops still clung to the delicate web. And 
as the sun shone down they looked for all the 
world like diamonds on a piece of lace. So little 
Puss, Junior, stretched out his paw and, would 
you believe it, instead of a drop of water he 
picked off a real diamond. 

“Ha, ha!” cried the little black spider. “The 
witch’s feather in your hat has changed the dew- 
drop into a diamond. But I have no use for 
precious stones, so you may have it. The 
flies that come to my net are more to my liking.” 
And then she tied the strings of her little black 
bonnet and put on her black silk mitts and 
waited for a fly to make a call. 

Well, after putting the diamond in his pocket, 


1 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


Puss rode away, and by and by, after a while 
he came to a steep hill. And, oh, dear me! it 
was a dreadfully steep hill, for Puss had missed 
his way and there was no path or road for him to 
follow. And while he waited, not knowing what 
to do, he heard a little voice say: 

“If I bring four wings to you 
To fasten on your horse’s shoe 
Will you give me for my locket 
The sparkling diamond in your pocket.^” 

“How do I know my Good Gray Horse can 
fly with these wings asked Puss. 

“He may try them first,” said the voice, and 
out from behind a stump jumped a little dwarf, 
dressed in green, with a red turban on his head. 
Quick as a wink he fastened a wing to each foot 
of the Good Gray Horse. And then he clicked 
his tongue against his teeth and away went the 
Good Gray Horse up in the air like a great bird. 

“Hold on!” shouted the dwarf. “Don’t for- 
get to give me the diamond,” and he held out his 
little hat for Puss to drop it in as the Good Gray 
Horse sailed away on his winged feet over the 
mountain. 

Well, as soon as he crossed the top of the 
great high mountain he came down to earth and, 
strange to say, as soon as he touched the ground 
the wings on his feet changed into long, silky 
hairs, and, but for these, he was just the same 
as he was before meeting the dwarf. 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


“Come, little master, since I have lost my 
wings, to yonder inn. I am hungry for oats.” 



So Puss rode forward and, after leaving him in the 

stable, sat down in the inn and waited for his 
3 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


dinner. Pretty soon a little bird settled on the 
window sill and sang: 

“From my snug little nest in the old apple tree. 

All covered with blossoms so fair, 

I never have seen, though I’m over thirteen, 

A horse that could fly thro’ the air.” 

Just then the innkeeper’s wife came in, and 
when she saw the little bird on the window sill 
close to Puss, Junior, she cried, “Time for little 
birds to be in their nests.” So the little bird flew 
away, and as soon as Puss had eaten his dinner 
he again mounted his Good Gray Horse. After 
a while he met an old man and a little dog. 
The little dog was carrying a basket in his mouth 
and the little old man a big pipe, from which the 
smoke curled up in the shape of a bird. All of 
a sudden he gave a puff and, would you believe 
it, a glossy gray pigeon flew away. 

Pretty soon the smoke again curled up from 
the pipe into the form of a pigeon, and then, just 
as before, the little old man gave a puff, and 
away flew a pigeon, only this time it was grayish 
blue. 

I don’t know how long this would have gone 
on if the little old man had not suddenly turned 
around. 

“You have a wonderful pipe,” said little Puss, 
Junior. “I’ve never seen one like it.” 

“There are lots of strange things in Mother 
Goose Land,” answered the little old man. “If 

4 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


you are a traveler, as I think you are, you will 
meet with many strange adventures.” 

Then with a bow he turned in at the gate of a 
little pink-and-blue cottage, at the rear of which 
stood a pigeon house on top of a tall pole. As 
Puss turned around for a last look, again the 
smoke from the little old man’s pipe changed 
into a pigeon, which flew straight toward the 
little pigeon house. 

Well, after that Puss rode along for some time, 
and by and by the moon came out and dimly 
lighted the road, which now led through a forest. 
It was very quiet, except for the tooting of an 
owl or the cry of a tree toad. 

Little Puss commenced to whistle when, all of 
a sudden, the Good Gray Horse jumped to the 
side of the road, and there, right in front of him, 
stood a tiny fairy, dressed in green. “Halt, 
Sir Cat!” he cried, waving his silver wand. 

2 


THE HOLD-UP 


“/^H, who is so merry, so merry, heigh ho! 

As the light-hearted fairy, heigh ho, heigh ho!” 

As soon as the little fairy I mentioned in the 
last story finished his song Puss, Junior’s, Good 
Gray Horse stood up on his hind legs, for he 
wasn’t used to these little people of the forest, 
you see. 

“Whoa, my good steed,” cried Puss. “Don’t 
you see it’s only a little fairy 

“Only a little fairy!” cried the forest fay. 
“I would have you understand. Sir Cat, that I 
have at my command a million subjects. I have 
but to sound a call upon my silver horn and they 
will surround you.” 

“Bah!” cried Puss, scornfully. “I have no 
fear of such tiny things.” 

But, oh, dear me! no sooner had he said this 
than the fairy blew a shrill blast upon his silver 
horn, and from all directions came thousands 
of little fairies on moth millers and fireflies. 
And, oh, dear me ! again, before Puss knew what 
was going to happen they stretched tiny ropes 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


about his Good Gray Horse and bound his legs 
fast, and after that they tied Puss to the 
saddle. 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the little fairy. “Now, 
my good Sir Cat, will you believe that fairies 
have power?” 

“Gid-ap!” cried Puss, but his good gray steed 
could move neither head nor foot. “Gid-ap!” 
he cried again; but his Good Gray Horse could 
move neither ears nor tail. 

“Gracious me!” exclaimed Puss. “I’m in a 
pretty mess!” And then the fairies began to 
sing: 


Pride must ever have a fall. 

Ne’er despise the weak and small. 

Only he who’s brave and good 
Shall pass safely through this wood.” 

“I don’t see how that applies to me,” cried 
Puss, stoutly. “I may have been a trifle rude, 
but I maintain I’m brave and good.” 

Well, just then, all of a sudden, a big kijid- 
hearted owl flew down from his nest in a tree 
and cut all the fairy ropes with a big pair of 
scissors. And then he gave a great hoot, which 
so frightened the fairies that they flew away, 
helter skelter, into the depths of the forest. 

“You have been very kind to me,” said Puss. 
“How shall I repay you?” 

“Forget it,” said the owl, taking off his gold- 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


rimmed spectacles and wiping his left eye with a 
yellow silk handkerchief. “If you would get 
safely out of this forest, 

“Follow the path, the moon is still bright. 

Take the first turn — the one to the right. 

The Willow Tree Inn you’ll find in due course. 
Where you’ll find shelter for you and your horse.” 

“Thank you,” said Puss. “If your directions 
are as good as your rhyme I shall have no trouble 
in finding the place.” 


WILLOW TREE INN 


nr^HE moonlight shone brightly on the sign of 
^ the Willow Tree Inn as Puss reached up for 
the big brass knocker. But he wasn’t tall 
enough, so he stood on an empty flower pot and 
rapped twice on the door. 

“Who’s there.^” asked the innkeeper, poking 
his head out of the window. 

“Puss in Boots, Junior.” 

“Very well. Master Boots,” said the inn- 
keeper. “Rest on the porch till I put on my 
boots.” And pretty soon the door opened and the 
sleepy innkeeper appeared with a lighted candle 
in his hand. “Ah, you have a horse,” he said. 
“ Come, I will show you the way to the stable.” 

“Bad luck,” cried the innkeeper, as a gust of 
wind blew out the candle. “The moon is behind 
a cloud. ’Tis dark. Can you make your way? ” 

“Never fear,” replied Puss. “A cat can see 
in the dark.” 

But, goodness me! just as they reached the 
barn a bat knocked off Puss, Junior’s, hat. 

“Bat, bat, come under my hat 

And I’ll give you a slice of bacon. 

And when I bake I’ll give you a cake. 

If I am not mistaken,” 

cried the innkeeper. 


9 



10 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


“That sounds mighty good to me,” said Puss, 
Junior. “I’ve had no supper yet, and it’s nearly 
morning.” 

“So it is,” answered the innkeeper. “Well, 
we’ll give your Good Gray Horse a mess of oats 
and some hay. After that we’ll go back to the 
inn and cook a slice of bacon.” 

“And when you bake please give me a cake, 
or I’ll be much disappointed,” cried Puss. 

“I’d rather give it to you than to that old 
bat,” said the innkeeper, closing the stable door 
and pushing in the bolt. “Of course, he catches 
lots of mice, but at the same time I don’t like 
him.” 

“So you like me better.^” said Puss. 

“Well, we’ll wait and see,” said the innkeeper. 
“In the meantime, come in.” And he opened 
the door and led Puss into the kitchen. 


THE ROBBER FAIRIES 


“^OCKS crow in the morn 
^ To tell us to rise, 

And he who lies late 
Will never be wise; 

“For early to bed 
And early to rise 
Is the way to be healthy 
And wealthy and wise.” 


“Well, I haven’t been to bed at all,” said 
Piiss. “I was held up in the forest.” 

“What!” exclaimed the innkeeper. “I had 
no idea there were robbers about.” 

“There were no robbers, my good host,” said 
Puss. “You would hardly believe me if I were 
to relate what actually happened.” 

“Tell me,” said the innkeeper, “while I fry 
the bacon.” 

So Puss explained how the fairies had made 
him captive, although he feared that the good 
man would doubt the truth of the story. But, 
instead, the innkeeper said: 

“ ’Tis not the first time, my good Sir Cat, 
12 


# 





13 






PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


that I have heard of travelers being held up in 
yonder woods by the fairies. Indeed, they take 
a mischievous pleasure in waylaying us mortals 
after sundown.” * 

“Indeed!” said Puss. “Hereafter I shall take 
great pains to avoid the forest after dark. I had 
a narrow escape.” 

Well, pretty soon the innkeeper placed the food 
upon the table and he and Puss sat down to eat. 
But, oh, dear me! they had hardly commenced 
when they heard a great commotion in the barn- 
yard. Puss rushed to the door just in time to see 
his Good Gray Horse gallop out of the stable 
yard with more than a hundred fairies on his 
back, who drove sharp little thorns into his sides 
and blew tiny horns in his ears. 

“Whoa!” screamed Puss, rushing out-of-doors. 
The Good Gray Horse, terrified by the cries of 
the fairies as well as excited by the stings and 
blows, paid no attention to the voice of his small 
master, but dashed out upon the highway, and 
in a few minutes disappeared down the hill. 

“What shall I do.^” cried Puss, in dismay. 


BICYCLE PUSS 


“ TF I had a horse in the stable I’d lend him to 
you,” said the kind-hearted innkeeper. 

“Have you an automobile.^” asked Puss. 

“Not yet,” replied the innkeeper. “But I 
have a bicycle which I will lend you.” 

It took Puss but a moment to mount, and then 
off he went to catch his Good Gray Horse, who, 
you remember in the last story, had been stolen 
by the fairies. 

But, oh, dear me ! although it was early morn- 
ing it seemed as if everybody was up ''and out for 
a walk. First, an old rooster stood right in the 
middle of the road and crowed : 

“Cock-a-doodle do, 

Your horse has lost a shoe.” 


“Where is it.^” asked Puss, stopping as quickly 
as he could, while the good-natured rooster 
hopped into the long grass and picked it up. 

“Thank you,” said Puss, hanging the shoe 
over his handlebar and setting off once more. 

But, oh, dear me ! again, he had gone but a short 
15 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


distance when a curly- tailed pig got right in his 
way, and of course Puss had to slow up. 

“If you’re looking for a runaway horse, you’d 
better take the lane to your right,” said the pig, 
with a grunt and a twist of his curly tail. 

So Puss set off again. But, oh, dear me ! for the 
third time, just in front of him was a big, fat 
cow who had to walk very carefully not to touch 
the fence rails on either side of her. Puss rang 
his bell, but she paid no attention to him what- 
ever. She kept right on, swinging her tail from 
side to side to brush off the flies. And maybe- 
Puss never would have passed her if she hadn’t 
all of a sudden, with a loud moo, trotted into a 
meadow spread over with butter-cups. 

Well, after a little way. Puss almost ran into 
a big load of hay, and if the farmer had kept on 
going down the road instead of turning into a 
gate, I guess Puss would have never caught 
up with his Good Gray Horse. 

“Gracious me!” said Puss, when the road was 
clear, “I must make up for lost time.” But 
just then a big black crow, who was sitting on a 
fence post, called out: 

“Where are you going so fast, Sir Cat? 

Look out, or the wind will blow off your hat.” 

And he flew off the fence and settled on the 
handlebar. 


16 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


“Oh) don’t worry! You’ll get him, all right,” 
said the crow when Puss told him what a hard 
time he was having to overtake his Good Gray 
Horse. “I saw him go by a few minutes ago. 
He looked pretty tired.” And then the old black 
bird flew away to tell Mrs. Crow that he had 
seen a pussy cat in boots riding a bicycle. 


PUSS RECOVERS HIS STEED 


^T'HE girl in the lane, that couldn’t speak plain, 

-*■ Cried, “Gobble, gobble, gobble!” 

The man on the hill, that couldn’t stand still. 
Went hobble, hobble, hobble: 

“Goodness me!’’ exclaimed Puss, Junior, as he 
mounted the bicycle which the kind owner of the 
Willow Tree Inn had lent him, “I can’t under- 
stand a word the girl says. I asked her if she 
had seen my Good Gray Horse and she answers, 
‘Gobble, gobble, gobble!’” And then little Puss 
gave a great sigh, for it’s pretty hard luck to have 
your horse stolen while asleep in a strange inn, 
although it’s mighty lucky to have the innkeeper 
lend you his bicycle. 

Well, after a while and many a mile, the road 
began to wind up a hill, so Puss got off and pushed 
his wheel ahead until by and by he met a little 
old man. He held a stick in both hands, on 
which he leaned as he hobbled along. 

“Did you see a runaway horse.^” asked Puss. 

“I did, indeed, my good Sir Cat,” answered the 
hobble-hobble man. “He went by but a few 
18 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 

minutes ago. There were fairies on his back. I 
thought at first I must be dreaming, till I re- 
membered once before in my life seeing a swarm 



of fairies, if I might use the word, from yonder 
forest in hot pursuit for a bold robber who had 
waylaid a traveler.” ' 

“Thank you,” said Puss. “I must catch up 

19 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


with them, for the horse belongs to me, and this 
bicycle is a poor substitute.” 

“Yes, I should think as much,” replied the 
hobble-hobble man. “But how are you going 
to catch him.f^ Those forest fairies are mis- 
chievous, and you will need to pedal fast and 
furious to overtake them.” 

“Never fear,” replied Puss, stoutly. “I have a 
good pair of legs.” And, jumping on his bicycle, he 
went up the hill at a great rate. On reaching the 
top he was delighted to see his Good Gray 
Horse going down the road to the valley. 

“Here’s where I overtake them,” cried Puss, 
placing his feet on the coasters. “My bicycle 
can go downhill faster than a horse. In a few 
moments I’ll again be astride my faithful steed.” 

The dust flew out in a cloud behind him as he 
swiftly coasted down the steep road. Ting-a- 
ling, ting-a-ling ! went his bell as he came nearer 
and nearer. “Gid-ap!” cried the fairies, but the 
Good Gray Horse was tired. He had gone 
many miles at a gallop. 

“Whoa!” cried Puss. 

“Gid-ap!” cried the fairies. 

But Puss was now close to them. Standing up 
on the bicycle seat, he made a wonderful jump 
and landed squarely on the saddle of his Good 
Gray Horse. And then, with a scream of dis- 
may, the fairies flew away. 


GEORGY PORGY 


T^OW let me see. In the last story Puss had 
taken his Good Gray Horse away from the 
fairies, but didn’t know what to do with the 
bicycle which he had borrowed from the owner 
of the Willow Tree Inn! “I can’t very well ride 
it and lead my horse,” said Puss to himself, 
“nor can I very well ride my horse and lead the 
bicycle. What shall I do.^” 

A short distance off stood a small red school- 
liouse, and just then through the open door came 
a merry crowd of children. All of a sudden a 
little boy with a piece of plum pudding in one 
hand and a piece of pie in the other ran swiftly 
toward Puss. 

Georgy Porgy, pudding and pie, 

Kissed the girls and made them cry. 

When the boys came out to play 
Georgy Porgy ran away 

And after him came a number of boys in hot 
pursuit. “Please help me get away from these 
boys!” cried Georgy Porgy. 

“What have you done.?” asked Puss. 

“Oh, I kissed the girls and made them cry,” 
3 21 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 

answered Georgy Porgy, “but it didn’t hurt 
them.” 

“How do you know.^” asked Puss. 

“Kisses don’t hurt,” replied Georgy Porgy. 

“But if these boys ever catch me” — looking 
fearfully over his shoulder — “they’ll give me an 
awful beating and take away my pie.” 

“Do you know where the Willow Tree Inn 
is.^” asked Puss, all of a sudden. 

“Yes, siree — ,” answered Georgy. 

“Quick ! ” cried Puss. “ Get on this bicycle and 
take it to the innkeeper. He lent it to me.” 

But, oh, dear me! the boys were now close at 
hand and Georgy Porgy had only time enough to 
give Puss the pie and pudding. “Take ’em,” 
he said, “I sha’n’t have time to eat ’em. I 
can’t eat and ride at the same time!” 

“Go it!” shouted Puss, and, goodness me! 
how that bicycle did go! 

“Stop! Stop!” yelled the boys. 

“Go it!” screamed Puss. “Don’t let them 
catch you!” 

And Georgy Porgy didn’t! No, siree! Then 
all of a sudden the recess bell rang, and of course 
the boys had to turn back. 

“I think I’ll be jogging along, too,” said Puss 
to himself. “They might throw a stone at me 
for helping Georgy.” And he galloped past the 
schoolhouse and was soon out of sight. 


A JOLLY GALLOP 


W ELL, well, well!” cried Puss, Junior, to 
himself, as he pulled in his Good Gray 
Horse after leaving the little red schoolhouse far 
behind. “It was lucky for me that Georgy 
Porgy happened to come my way. Otherwise, 
how would I have been able to return the bicycle 
to the innkeeper.^” And after that he walked 
his horse until he came to a stream, on the banks 
of which stood an old mill. The mill pond was 
rimmed with overhanging willow trees, and the 
water trickled over the dam with a soft, gurgling 
noise. Through the sluiceway the water ran in 
a swift stream, turning the old wheel around and 
around. 

Puss dismounted, and after his horse had taken 
a drink he cropped the fresh green grass, while 
Puss lay down in the shade. 

“Margaret wrote a letter, 

’ Sealed it with her finger. 

Threw it in the dam 
For the dusty miller. 

Dusty was his coat, 

Dusty was the siller. 

Dusty was the kiss 
From the dusty miller, 

23 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


If I haJ my pockets 
Full of gold and siller, 
I would give it all 
To my dusty miller.” 


Goodness me! Puss must have fallen asleep 
in the shade of the old willow tree. It was a 




THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 

sleepy place, and the water trickling over the dam 
made one dream of silver fishes ! Puss rubbed his 
eyes and listened: 

“If I had my pockets 
Full of gold and siller, 

I would give it all 
To my dusty miller.” 

“Would you really?” asked Puss, looking up 
at a pretty girl leaning against a tree close by. 
It was she who had sung this little song, you see. 

“Oh, dear me! I thought I was all alone,” she 
sighed. 

“So did I,” said Puss, “until you woke me.” 

“Were you asleep?” asked the pretty girl. 

“Asleep and dreaming,” answered our small 
hero. 

“So was I — I mean I was dreaming,” said the 
pretty girl, in a low voice. 

“Yonder stands my Good Gray Horse. Would 
you like to ride with me?” asked Puss. 

“Yes, indeed,” replied the girl, quickly. “Take 
me for a jolly gallop.” And the next minute she 
and Puss, Junior, were racing down the road. 


THE RUNAWAY 


“IV/JERRY are the bells, and merry would they ring; 
Merry was myself, and merry could I sing; 
With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free. 

And a merry sing-song, happy let us be. 

“Merry have we met, and merry have we been. 
Merry let us part, and merry meet again; 

With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free. 
And a merry ding-dong, happy let us be.” 

“Whoa!’’ cried Puss, Junior, pulling in his 
Good Gray Horse. 

“You’ve given me a lovely ride,” said the 
pretty girl. “ It is more than a mile from the mill. 
I live just over there,” pointing to a cottage on 
the hillside. 

“Shall I take you up to the gate.^” asked Puss. 
“No, I’ll get off here, thank you,” she replied, 
“and I shall never forget how nice you’ve been. 
I was quite unhappy before you spoke to me at 
the old mill pond.” 

“Merry have we met, and merry have we been, 
Merry let us part, and merry meet again,” 

said Puss, stretching out his paw. 

26 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


“How well you remember my song!” said the 
pretty girl, waving her hand to Puss as he rode 
away. 

He had gone but a short distance when he heard 
the clatter of hoofs. Looking back, he was 



startled to see a horse and wagon come tearing 
down the road. 

“A runaway!” he exclaimed, quickly drawing 
to one side. In a few minutes the frightened 
horse rushed by. In the wagon was a little old 
27 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


man, clinging tightly to the reins and with great 
difficulty keeping his horse in the middle of the 
road. In an instant Puss set off in pursuit. 
Pretty soon his Good Gray Horse drew close to 
the wagon. “Don’t give up!” cried Puss. 
“Hold on tight!” The little old man did his 
best, but by this time his horse had become 
unmanageable and, turning suddenly to the 
right, dashed up a steep bank. With a snap, the 
harness broke and away went the frightened 
animal. 

“Let the pesky brute go,” exclaimed the old 
man. “He’ll get tired of running and come 
home by and by.” 

“You may have my horse,” cried Puss. And 
in a few minutes the harness was mended and 
Puss and the little old man drove off down the 
road. 


HUMPTY-BUMPTY 


TTUMPTY - BUMPTY, bump! went the 
^ wagon, as the Good Gray Horse trotted 
along. “Very poor springs on this wagon,” 
cried Puss, his teeth knocking together as they 
crossed a rough bit of road. 

“You are not used to farm wagons, my good 
Sir Cat,” the little old man replied. 

“You are right,” said Puss. 

“Did you ever hear the conundrum in rhyme 
about 


“ ‘ Thirty white horses upon a red. hill. 

Now they tramp, now they champ. 

Now they all stand still’?” 

asked the little old man. 

“No,” replied Puss. “But who ever saw a red 
hill.?” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the little old man, showing 
how very few teeth he had to chatter. “Why, 
the thirty white horses are your teeth, and the 
red hill is your gums. Ha, ha!” 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


‘‘He, he!” laughed Puss. “Gid-ap, my Good 
Gray Horse. Let us rattle the thirty white 
horses upon a red hill, let them tramp and champ, 
but never stand still!” And away went the 
wagon clattering after the Gray Horse, bumpty- 
bumpty, bump! 

“Hold on!” cried the little old man. “If I 
have but few teeth, I have old bones ! Do you 
wish to shake me to bits.?” 

“Whoa!” cried Puss, but the Good Gray 
Horse evidently thought it great fun, for on he 
went at a still faster clip. The boards in the 
bottom of the wagon flew up and down and the 
wooden seat swayed back and forth. Up and 
down, bumpty -bumpty, bump! went the little old 
man. 

“Pull him in!” he cried. “Pull on the lines! 
Don’t let your horse run away!” 

Puss tugged at the reins, but the Good Gray 
Horse had the bit between his teeth. He stuck 
out his head and tail and let his feet fly. Over 
the stones bumped the wagon, up on one side 
and then down on the other. Poor Puss had all 
he could do to keep from falling out, and the 
little old man clung to the side boards and cried, 
“Pull on the lines!” 

“I am,” panted Puss, “but it doesn’t do any 
good.” 

“Pull harder!” yelled the little old man. 

“Can’t,” replied Puss, now breathless from the 
30 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


bumping of the wagon. “Can’t pull one little 
bit harder.” 

“Turn him in yonder lane!” screamed the little 
old man. “That’s my lane! It leads into the 
barnyard.” 

Well, it was mighty lucky that Puss managed 
to turn up the lane, and in another moment they 
were racing into the yard, but before Puss could 
stop him the Good Gray Horse went head first 
into the haymow and headlong over the dasli^ 
board went Puss and the little old man. 


THE HAYMOW 


I T was a mighty lucky thing that the Good 
Gray Horse in the last story ran into the hay- 
mow instead of the corncrib. Well, as soon as 
Puss picked himself up the Good Gray Horse 
pulled his head out of the haymow. He had 
gone in quite deep, for he was going at a great 
rate, and it’s a wonder he didn’t go right through 
the great mound of hay. 

“Whew! Miew!” cried Puss, pulling wisps of 
hay out of his hair and dusting off the tops of his 
red boots. “That was a pretty sudden stop!” 

“Yes, but it turned out all right,” said the little 
old man. “It was about the best way to stop 
your horse, methinks. It was lucky there was 
hay in the way, I should say.” 

“How could you be such a bad old thing.?” 
asked Puss, stroking the Good Gray Horse on the 
nose. “ The idea of your running away with us ! ” 
The Good Gray Horse made no reply, how- 
ever. He looked a little foolish, but, beyond 
that, he seemed very much the same, except that 
his collar was pushed up over his ears and his 
harness twisted about his neck. 

32 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 



“Well, put him in the stable,” said the little 
old man. “We’ll give him a good bed and some 


oats. My own horse may show up some time 
this evening — that is, if he ever gets tired of 
running.” 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


After the Good Gray Hors^e was made com- 
fortable the little old man led Puss, Junior, into 
the house. 

“Mother,” he called out, as he opened the door, 
“here is a visitor for you.” 

A queer little old woman arose from her 
rocking chair and came forward. “What! a 
cat!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands in 
dismay. “John, you know I don’t like cats!” 

“Then, madam,” said Puss, Junior, politely, 
“I’ll iiot trespass on your hospitality,” and he 
turned to leave. 

“Not so, not so!” cried the little old man. 
“Mother, you don’t understand what has hap- 
pened. This noble cat has done me a good turn. 
My old mare ran away and he kindly hitched up 
his Good Gray Horse to my wagon and brought 
me home.” 

“Ah,” said the little old man’s wife, “that’s 
another story. This cat is no ordinary cat. 
Let him make himself comfortable while I go 
and see about supper.” 

But Puss still hesitated. 

“You are indeed welcome,” said the little old 
woman, peering over her glasses to get a good 
look at him; “you shall stay and rest yourself, 
for you have helped my good man, and whoever 
does my man a good turn shall never go 
unrewarded.” 


CHAUFFEUR TAFFY 


“ TJTIGH-HO, how the winds blow!” exclaimed 
^ little Puss, Junior, as he rode along on his 
Good Gray Horse toward the castle of my Lord 
Carabas to see his dear father. Puss in Boots. 

But New Mother Goose Land is a big country 
and Puss did not realize how long a journey it 
was. You see, he had been seeking adventures 
for so long and had traveled so far — sometimes on 
the back of his good friend. Goosey Goosey 
Gander, sometimes in the airship whose captain 
was a downy goose and the sailors four and 
twenty doves, and then, again, on broomsticks 
and umbrellas and baskets that flew in the air 
with their old women owners — that now, once 
more astride of his Good Gray Horse who had 
carried him many a mile in Old Mother Goose 
Land he felt he would soon be with his father. 

Well, as Puss rode along he came to a bend in 
the road where an automobile stood. It had 
evidently broken down, for the chauffeur was 
tinkering with the machinery. 

All of a sudden a blackbird perched herself on 
the fence along the road and began to sing: 

35 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


“Taffy was a chauffeur, Taffy was a loafer, 

Taffy broke a tire everywhere he went. 

His master soon grew tired, Taffy he was fired; 
Taffy he was fired without another cent. 

“Taffy came to master’s house; master wasn’t in. 
Taffy made an awful row, kicked up such a din. 

He blew on his auto horn, blew with all his might; 
Everyone but Taffy ran away in fright.” 

“Whoa there!’’ cried Puss, Junior, and the 
blackbird must have thought it was meant for 
her, for she stopped her song and looked at our 
small hero. And of course the Good Gray 
Horse stopped, and Taffy — well, he crawled 
out from under the automobile and scowled at 
the blackbird. And this made Puss, Junior, 
laugh, and the Good Gray Horse cough and the 
blackbird snicker, all of which made Taffy very 
red in the face. 

“Tell-tale-tit, your tongue shall be slit,” he 
cried, but the blackbird clapped her wings and 
flew away. And after that Puss, Junior, said 
gid-ap to his horse and rode off, leaving Taffy 
to finish mending his automobile. And after a 
little while the blackbird came back and settled 
herself on the head of the Good Gray Horse. 

“Where are you going.^” she said. 

“To visit my father. Puss in Boots,” replied 
our little hero. 


THREE LITTLE KITTENS 

^^HREE little kittens lost their mittens 
And they began to cry, 

“Oh, mother dear, we very much fear 
That we have lost our mittens.” 

“I’ll help you find them,” cried Puss, Junior, 
looking in through the door of a little green 
house. 

“Will you.^” said a little tabby cat. 

“I think we lost them by the woodpile,” said 
a little gray kitten. 

“Perhaps we dropped them while playing 
hide and go seek,” said a cute black kitty. 

“Come on, my little pussyfoots,” cried Puss, 
Junior, with a grin. “I’m pretty good at finding 
things — except people — I can’t find my dear 
father.” 

“How did you lose him?” asked the first little 
kitty, as they all ran out into the back yard. 

“I don’t know any more than you know how 
you lost your mittens,” replied Puss, Junior, 
with a laugh. 

“If you find our mittens we’ll help you find 
your father,” cried the three little kittens. But, 
4 37 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


hunt as they might, no mittens were to be found. 
Under the woodpile and back of the old well. 



behind the woodshed and under the grape arbor, 
they hunted, but in vain. 

38 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


You naughty kittens! “Lost your mittens! 
Then you shall have no pie!” 

“Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.” 

“No, you shall have no pie.” 

“Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.” 

“Have you looked in the barn?” asked Puss. 

“No,” cried the three little kittens. 

“Well, that’s a good place to look if you’ve 
been playing there,” suggested Puss. So they all 
ran out to the barn. But just as they entered 
the big door a little mouse scurried into a hole 
and a big gray rat ran into the corn bin. 

“ Look here, little mouse, if you’ll tell us whether 
you’ve seen any mittens we won’t hurt you,” cried 
Puss. But the little mouse didn’t reply. 

“My dear Mr. Rat,” said Puss, Junior, speak- 
ing into a crack of the corn bin, “if you’ll tell us 
whether you have seen any mittens we’ll promise 
not to touch you.” But the rat didn’t answer. 

“They’re afraid of you,” said the little black 
kitty. 

“Then you ask them,” whispered Puss, Junior. 

“Did you see our mittens?” whispered the 
black kitty to the little mouse. 

“Yes,” replied a squeaky voice. “I saw some 
mittens in the tool closet.” Then the little black 
kitty ran over to the tool closet, and pretty soon 
he came dancing out on his two hind legs. 
“Here they are! Here they are! ” he cried, with a 
happy purr. 


39 


MR. RAT 


three little kittens found their mittens, 

* And they began to cry, 

“Oh, mother dear, see here, see here! 

See, we have found our mittens.” 

“Thank you,” said the black kitty, as the 
little mouse peeped out of her house, “thank 
you very much for telling us where our mittens 
were.” 

“We promise never to hurt you,” cried the 
three little kittens. 

Puss, Junior, walked over to the corn bin. 
“Look here, Mr. Rat,” he said, in a gruff voice, 
“as long as you were so mean not to tell us where 
the mittens were, I won’t promise not to catch 
you.” 

“You’d better wait till you get the chance,” 
replied the rat, looking down from the top of the 
bin. 

“Just wait till we grow up, Mr. Rat,” said 
the three little kittens, looking very fierce with 
their whiskers standing out straight from their 
little fat cheeks and their tails twice their 
natural size. “You had better not be too sure 
of yourself. 


40 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


“For many a rat who has spoken like that 
Has been caught when he least was aware. 

So you’d better look out what you are about. 

For we are three kittens who dare.” 

“That’s the way to talk to him,” said Puss, 
Junior, admiringly. “We’ll scare him to death, 
anyway.” 

“No, you won’t,” said the rat. “You don’t 
know who I am. I’m the rat ‘that ate the malt 
that lay in the house that Jack built.’” 

“Oh, you are, are you.^” said Puss. “Well, 
what are you doing here.?^ ” 

“Making a visit,” replied the rat. 

“Look out,” advised Puss, “or you may not 
find it a pleasant one.” 

“Nonsense!” replied the rat with a loud 
laugh. “Who’s afraid of three little kittens.^^ 
They can’t even find their mittens.” Before 
he had time to say another word Puss, Junior, 
sprang on top of the corn bin. Away went the 
rat, over the barn floor, out through the open 
door, down the path to the road. Puss, Junior, 
kicked off his red-topped boots and went after 
him. 

“Go it. Puss, dear!” screamed three little 
kittens. “Catch him!” 

The ground was covered with a light fall of 
snow, but this made no difference to Puss, 
Junior. He was a big, strong, healthy cat, and 
he didn’t mind running barefoot in the snow. 

41 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 

This was not the case with Mr. Rat, however. 
Very soon his feet became so cold that he could 
hardly run, and before he reached the gate Puss 
pounced upon him. 

“Look here,” said Puss, fiercely, holding him 
down on the frozen ground — “look here, Mr. Rat, 
we don’t want you around here any longer. Do 
you understand 

“I’ll promise to go back to Jack’s house if 
you’ll let me up.” 

“All right,” said Puss. “Now go!” And 
away went the frightened rat. 


A BIG TUMBLE 


“ I ^UT on your mittens, you silly kittens, 

**■ And you shall have some pie. 

Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r.” 

“Oh, let us have the pie, 

Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r.’* 

ly/TRS. CAT stood in the doorway of her little 
house and again she called out, “Put on 
your mittens, you silly kittens.” 

“And I’ll pull on my boots,” said Puss, 
Junior, running back to the barn. “My toes 
are almost frozen.” 

“Has the horrid old rat really gone?” asked the 
three little kittens. 

“He has,” replied Puss. “Didn’t you see me 
catch him just before he reached the gate? ” 

“There was so much snow flying about that 
we couldn’t see very well,” said the gray kitten. 

“Well, I caught him, all right,” replied Puss, 
pulling on his boots, “but he begged me so hard 
to let him go that I did. He promised he’d never 
come back.” 

“If he really is the ‘rat that ate the malt that 
lay in the house that Jack built’ I don’t believe 
43 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


Jack will be very glad to see him,” said the little 
tabby cat, pulling on her mittens. 

“My paws are almost frozen,” cried the little 
gray kitten. “I’m so glad we have found our 
mittens.” 

“Good-by, mousie,” cried the little black 
kitten, going up to the mouse hole and peeping 
in. “We all thank you very much for telling us 
where our mittens were. We’re going into the 
house now, for mother has some pie for us. 
We’ll bring you out a little piece of crust in a 
few minutes.” 

“Don’t forget!” she answered, peeping out of 
her hole. “Bring us three pieces, for I have two 
little children who are very fond of pie crust.” 

“You be sure to save a little piece of crust,” 
said the black kitty to the tabby kit, “and you, 
too,” he said, turning to the gray kitten; “then 
we’ll have three pieces!” 

“Let’s close the barn door,” said Puss, before 
they started off for the house. “ The little mouse 
may freeze if we leave it open.” 

It was a very big barn door that ran on little 
iron wheels, and it wasn’t easy to move. “Push ! ” 
cried Puss, bracing his feet against the side of the 
barn. 

“We can’t push any harder,” cried the three 
little kittens. 

“Try again,” said Puss. “Now, all together, 
heave ho, heave ho!” The big door began to 
44 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 

move. “Push!” cried Puss. “It’s beginning to 
move.” 

The three little kittens did their best, and 
pretty soon the little wheels went round and 
round, faster and faster, until all of a sudden the 
big door bumped into the other end of the door- 
way, sending Puss, Junior, and the three little 
kittens head over heels into the snow. 


HUNGRY KITTENS 


G oodness, what a bump!” cned the 
little black kitty, wiping the snow from 
his eyes. 

“Gracious! what a bump!” said Puss, scram- 
bling up from the ground. “I think I felt it 
more than the old barn door, for I was under- 
neath, you see, and you were piled on top of 
me.” 

The three little kittens felt very sorry and 
commenced to brush the snowflakes from his 
fur coat. “There’s snow in your boot legs,” 
said the little gray kitten, standing on tiptoe 
and looking down Puss, Junior’s, boots. “Don’t 
you feel it.^ I should think it would make you 
shiver.” 

“I’ll soon find out,” said Puss, pulling them 
off and turning them upside down. 

“Are they wet inside.^” asked the tabby kitten, 
anxiously. 

“Not very,” said Puss, squinting up one eye 
and peering in. 

“If they are,” said the little black kitten, 
“mother will dry them for you at the fire.” 

Then: 


46 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


The three little kittens put on their mittens. 

And soon ate up the pie. 

“Oh, mother dear, we greatly fear 
That we have soiled our mittens.” 

While Puss was busy placing his boots before 
the kitchen stove the three little kittens seated 
themselves at the table. 



“Why don’t you take off your mittens.^^” Puss 
asked. “I guess you’re so hungry you can’t 
wait,” he added with a laugh. 

It took blit a short time for his boots to dry, 
for there was a big, blazing fire in the stove. 

“Don’t you want something to eat.^” asked 
47 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


Mrs. Cat, coming over to Puss. “You have 
very pretty boots,” she continued, lifting up one 
and looking at it with much admiration. 

“Yes, they are nice boots,” said Puss, Junior. 
“They were made for my famous father. Puss in 
Boots. Mr. Solomon Grundy, who was born on 
a Monday, made them years ago for my father. 
And one day, it was only last week, when I 
stopped at his store, I saw a notice in his window 
that he had died on Saturday and was buried 
on Sunday, and that was the end of Solomon 
Grundy.” 

“Too bad,” said Mrs. Cat. 

“When I went into the store,” continued Puss, 
“Mrs. Grundy took them down from a shelf 
and sold them to me. Then she went across the 
street to ask an old friend where my father lived, 
but she couldn’t find out — her friend didn’t know 
or couldn’t remember — so here I am, still search- 
ing for my daddy.” 

“Too bad,” said Mrs. Cat again. “I’m really 
very sorry. But do not give up hope, for you 
will find him I am sure.” 


KITTENS WASH MITTENS 

A FTER Mrs. Cat had powdered Puss, Junior’s, 
toes so that they would slip easily into his 
boots she turned to see what the three little 
kittens were doing. They had just finished eat- 
ing the pie. She had been so interested in hear- 
ing how Puss, Junior, had found his red-top 
boots that she hadn’t heard them say: 

“Oh, mother dear, we greatly fear 
That we have soiled our mittens.’* 

“What!” exclaimed Mrs. Cat. “Soiled your 
mittens, you naughty kittens ! ” 

' Then they began to sigh, 

“Mi-ow, mi-ow, mi-ow.’* 

Then they began to sigh, 

“Mi-ow, mi-ow, mi-ow.’* 

“Take them off at once,” cried Mrs. Cat. 

“We will, mother,” said the three little kittens. 

“I can’t imagine why you kept them on,” said 
Mrs. Cat. 

“We were so hungry we didn’t have time to 
take them off,” said the little black kitten. 

“My fingers were so cold I thought I’d leave 

them on,” cried the tabby kitten. 

49 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


“I didn’t think about anything,” sobbed the 
little gray kitten. “I just looked at the pie, and 
then I forgot I had on mittens.” 

Mrs. Cat stood with her front paws on her 



hips, looking first from one little kitten to 
another. 

“Did you ever see anything like children.^^” she 
sighed, turning to Puss, Junior. 

“My dear madam, forgive them this once. 

50 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


They were so excited over finding the pie that 
they lost their heads.” 

“It’s a good thing they are tied on,” said 
Mrs. Cat, with a laugh; “they might not be 
found as easily as the mittens.” 

The three little kittens looked very much 
ashamed. Then the little black kitten ran over 
to the washtubs and, jumping on a stool, turned 
the hot-water faucet. His mother handed him a 
big cake of soap, and in another minute the 
other two little kittens climbed up beside him. 

“What are you going to do.^^” asked Mrs. 
Cat, with a sly wink at Puss, Junior. 

“Never mind, mother, dear. Please don’t 
look.” And they commenced to ^crub their 
mittens. And when they had them all covered 
with lather they dipped them into the water and 
squeezed them until the soapsuds looked like a 
snow drift, and after that they all reached down 
and pulled out the stopper, and when the soapy 
water was all gone they filled the tub again 
with nice, clean water and washed the mittens 
all over again. But, oh, dear me! the water was 
so deep that the little gray kitten wet her little 
pink sleeve. 


PIE FOR MRS. MOUSE 


three little kittens washed their mittens 
^ And hung them up to dry. 

“Oh, mother dear, do you not hear 
That we have washed our mittens?” 

Sure enough, all the mittens were washed and 
neatly hung on the clothesline. But the clothes- 
line was so high that Puss had been forced to 
climb a stepladder. The kittens had stood be- 
low, their little paws full of clothespins, and 
every time Puss needed a pin one of them had 
climbed up and handed it to him. 

“Washed your mittens! Oh, you’re good kittens. 
But I smell a rat close by. 

Hush! Hush! mee-ow, mee-ow. 

We smell a rat close by, 

Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow!” 

cried Mrs. Cat. 

When Puss heard this he ran around the house. 
I guess he expected to find the “rat that ate the 
malt that lay in the house that Jack built.” 
But Mrs. Cat had made a mistake, for there was 
no rat to be seen. Instead, there stood the little 
mouse who two or three stories ago had told the 
black kitty where to find their mittens. 

52 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


“What do you want?’’ asked Puss, Junior, 
kindly. 

“I think the three little kittens have forgotten 
their promise to give me three pieces of pie. 
I’ve been waiting in the barn all this time.” 

“Kittens!” cried Puss. 

The three little kittens came tumbling around 
the house. But the little mouse ran behind a tree. 

“Did you forget to save some pie crust for the 
little mouse and her two children?” asked Puss. 

“Of course not!” replied the three kittens. 

“I tucked a little piece under my plate,” said 
the gray kitten. 

“I put a little piece in the old clock,” said the 
tabby kitten. 

“And I put mine behind the big shell on the 
mantelpiece,” cried the black kitty. 

“Go and get them,” said Puss, “for Mrs. 
Mouse can’t be kept waiting; her babies out in 
the barn will be crying for her.” 

The three little kittens ran into the house, and 
pretty soon returned with the pie crust. 

“We’ll carry it out to the barn for you,” they 
cried. 

So the little mouse ran ahead, and when she 
was safe in the barn she waited until the kittens 
had placed the three little pieces of pie crust on 
the floor. 'As soon as they had gone the little 
mouse came out and carried the pie crust into 
her house. 

5 


53 


SING A SONG OF SIXPENCE 


OING a song of sixpence, 

^ A pocketful of rye, 

Four and twenty blackbirds 
Baked in a pie. 

When the pie was opened 
The birds began to sing. 

Wasn’t that a dainty dish 
To set before the king.^ 

Well, when little Puss, Junior, heard those 
blackbirds singing he halted before the castle 
and knocked on the gate. 

“You must have a thousand canaries.” 

“Canaries nothing,” replied the old i^etainer. 
“The King’s twenty -four blackbirds are singing.” 

But, goodness, gracious me! all of a sudden 
something happened. And it was even worse 
than when the raven cried, “Croak!” and the 
farmer’s mare fell down and broke her knee. 
For just then, while 

The maid was in the garden 
Hanging out the clothes, 

Down came a blackbird 
And snapped off her nose. 

54 



65 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


Perhaps he was angry because he hadn’t been 
invited to sing for the King. I’m sure I don’t 
know, but, anyway, he was a mighty mean bird, 
let me tell you. 

“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” cried the poor maid, 
and she sat down on a garden bench and began 
to weep. Just then the four and twenty black- 
birds jumped out of the pie and flew into the gar- 
den to look for that naughty bird. But they 
couldn’t And him. Oh, dear, no! He was far 
away by that time, maybe at the North Pole of 
Mother Goose Land, which they tell me is a 
frosted stick of sugar candy. 

“Oh, what shall I do.^” sobbed the maid, still 
holding her poor nose in her hands. 

“You had better call in the doctor,” suggested 
Puss. 

“He lives a good two miles from here,” said the 
old retainer, “and our telephone is out of order.” 

“I’ll go fetch him,” said Puss. “Dry your 
eyes, pretty maid!” And, jumping on his Good 
Gray Horse, he galloped away. And the four 
and twenty blackbirds flew after him so that in 
case the naughty blackbird came back to nip 
little Puss, Junior’s, nose they would be there to 
protect him. 


DOCTOR FOSTER 


T^OCTOR FOSTER went to Glo’ster 
In a shower of rain; 

He stepped in a puddle up to his middle. 

And never went there again. 

Which was a mighty lucky thing, for, goodness 
knows, perhaps the poor maid never would have 
had her nose mended if Puss hadn’t found the 
good doctor at home. 

Well, as soon as he learned what was the mat- 
ter, he jumped up behind Puss, and the Good 
Gray Horse kicked out his heels and galloped 
away, and the four and twenty blackbirds trailed 
after them, and pretty soon, not so very long, 
they came to the Blackbird-pie Castle. There sat 
the poor maid in the garden, still holding her nose 
in her hand. 

“Let’s see it,” said the doctor, opening his 
little black bag and taking out medicine and 
bandages. 

“I’m afraid it’s half gone,” sobbed the maid, 
“I don’t want to look at it.” 

“But I do,” said the doctor. “Otherwise, 
how can I mend it.^” And I guess he was right, 
for he was the most famous doctor in all Mother 
57 



58 





THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


Goose Land. Well, as soon as she took away 
her hand he said : 

“It's not as bad as it might be. It still looks 
like a nose!” 

“Does it.^” she sobbed. 

“Oh yes,” said the doctor, turning to Puss and 
the old retainer. “You'll hardly know the 
blackbird touched it after I get through.” 

“Maybe he only pinched it,” said Puss. 

“Or only tweaked it,” said the old retainer. 

“Perhaps he thought it was a cherry,” laughed 
the doctor, putting on some powder. 

And then the maid began to smile. “It feels 
much better already,” she said. 

“Well, it's always a good thing to call in the 
doctor,” said the learned man. “You never can 
tell what may happen,” and, picking up his little 
black bag, he held out his hand. “ Two shillings, 
please!” 

“Mercy me!” she cried. “I haven't had my 
wages for this month.” 

“What did you do with last month’s.^” asked 
the doctor, but before she could reply one of 
the four and twenty blackbirds dropped a gold 
piece in his hand. I guess he felt dreadfully 
ashamed to think that one of his brothers had 
pinched a pretty girl’s nose. 


A MISCOUNT 


King was in his counting-house. 
Counting out his money; 

The Queen was in the parlor. 

Eating bread and honey. 


And now let us see where little Puss, Junior, 
was. Oh yes, I remember now. He was in the 
garden of the Blackbird-pie Castle, where the 
poor maid’s nose had been nipped by a naughty, 
bad blackbird. Well, after the good Doctor had 
gone, the old retainer took Puss to see the King, 
who was so bus}^ counting his money that he 
didn’t even look up. 

“Your Worship,” began the retainer. 

“What do you want.^” asked the King, angrily. 
“ I’ve just counted up to three trillion two hundred 
and thirty-seven billion, nine hundred and forty- 
eight million, seven hundred and fifteen thou- 
sand, four hundred and — and — now you’ve gone 
and made me miss, and I’ll have to count all 
over again.” 

“Start off at four hundred. A few sovereigns 
less won’t matter to a king,” said little Puss, 
Junior. 

“I’m not so sure about that,” replied His 
60 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 

Majesty, taking off his crown and scratching his 
head. “One likes to be right as well as King!” 

“Nobly said, my lord!” cried the old re- 
tainer. “But consider your health. Let’s take 
this wise cat’s suggestion and quit for the time 
being.” 

“xAll right,” said the King. “Let’s go find the 
Queen.” 

She was in the parlor eating bread and honey. 
“How do you do, my dear Puss, Junior she 
cried. 

“I am very well, thank Your Majesty,” he 
replied. 

“I have just heard what valuable assistance 
you have rendered our court,” continued the 
Queen. 

Puss would have blushed had not his cheeks 
been covered with whiskers. 

“I did but do my duty. Your Majesty,” he 
replied. 

“What’s that.^” asked the King. 

“Did you not hear, my lord.^” cried the 
Queen. “Our maid had her nose bitten by a 
naughty blackbird, and our little friend here 
quickly fetched the Doctor, bringing him on his 
Good Gray Horse in short time.” 

“Indeed!” exclaimed His Majesty. “I will 
reward him. He shall have a castle and a 
retinue.” 

“Your Royal Highness,” exclaimed Puss, 
61 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 

Junior, “I am overwhelmed with your generosity, 
but I needs must decline your offer. For until 
I find my father, the famous Puss in Boots, I 
may not rest upon my journey except for sleep 
and refreshment.” 



“Zounds!” exclaimed the King. “You are a 
gallant cat. Would that all my subjects were as 
faithful to their duty as you are! But,” he 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


added, with a smile, “you shall rest here for the 
night, for a good dinner and a sound sleep will 
make you travel the faster on the morrow.” 

The Queen by this time had finished her bread 
and honey. 

“Come out on the terrace,” she suggested, “for 
it is cool and pleasant there, and the flowers are 
very beautiful. I would show Sir Cat our 
flower garden.” 

The King, therefore, gave his arm to the Queen 
and Puss gallantly held up her train, the three 
walking slowly out upon the broad terrace. The 
sun was quite low in the sky, for it was late in 
the afternoon. The big hills to the westward 
seemed to hold up the sky, and Puss wondered 
whether the jolly old sun wound not bump him- 
self as he slid down over the edge of the world. 

“Come, Puss dear, take my hand,” said the 
Queen. She then went over and sat down on a 
marble bench. Picking up Puss, she held him in 
her arms and commenced to sing, and presently 
he fell fast asleep. The Queen looked up at the 
King and said, “Is he not a dear little cat.^” and 
the King for answer took from his purse several 
gold pieces and tucked them away in Puss, 
Junior’s, pocket. 


PLUM PUDDING STORY 

W HEN Puss, Junior, awoke from his nap 
he was surprised to find himself in the 
Queen’s lap. It was growing dark and for a 
moment he wondered where he was. “Don’t 
ask where you are, ni}^ dear Puss,” laughed the 
Queen, “for you are safe and well.” 

“Your Majesty,” said Puss, rubbing his eyes, 
“I was also very comfortable. Pardon me for 
dropping off to sleep in your presence.” 

Just then a page appeared and announced that 
dinner was served. The King arose and offered 
his arm to the Queen, Puss following quietly 
after. As he stepped down the great stairway 
to the royal dining room he heard some one sing- 
ing in a deep voice : 

“When good King Arthur ruled this land. 

He was a goodly King; 

He stole three pecks of barley meal 
To make a bag pudding. 

“A bag pudding the King did make 
And stuffed it well with plums, 

And in it put great lumps of fat 
As big as my two thumbs. 

64 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 

“The King and Queen did eat thereof. 

And noblemen beside; 

And what they could not eat that night 
The Queen next morning fried.” 

“Plum pudding!” said Puss to himself. “That 
sounds pretty nice,” and he followed the King 
and Queen into the great dining hall. Many 
noblemen were present and the table was a most 
gorgeous affair. Silver tankards and wonderful 
gold dishes gleamed in the candlelight. Puss 
was very much impressed and behaved beauti- 
fully. And when the plum pudding came on the 
table the same deep voice began to sing: 

“And what they could not eat that night 
The Queen next morning fried.” 

“Puss,” said the Queen in a whisper, “let’s 
finish the pudding between us! I know you’d 
like some more, and so would I. Moreover,” 
she added in a still lower whisper, “I don’t 
intend getting up early to-morrow morning to 
fry what’s left over — so let us finish it to-night.” 

Presently the court fool came running in, his 
fool’s cap all ajingle with bells. He capered 
about, swinging up and down a little stick which 
was also covered with tiny bells. These were 
silver, and the ones in his cap were of gold, so 
that the sound was very sweet. 

The next morning Puss mounted his Good 
65 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


Gray Horse and rode away, and after a while he 
came to a great mound of earth in which was a 
little wooden door on leather hinges. 

‘‘What sort of a house is this.^” thought Puss. 
And then, as if in answer to his question, the door 
opened and there stood a big brown bear dressed 
in a fur overcoat. And, oh, dear me ! at first Puss 
was startled, and the Good Gray Horse reared 
on his hind legs. But the big brown bear didn’t 
growl. Not even a little bit. He just smiled 
as only a brown bear can, and said: 

‘Tf you have money 
I’ll sell you some honey.’* 

So Puss jumped down and followed the bear into 
his hill house, for Puss was curious to see what 
kind of a home this big, smiling brown bear had, 
you see. 

Well, I want you to know it was a mighty 
nice sort of a place. There was a big fireplace 
with great immense crackling logs, and over it, 
on the mantelpiece, were two beautiful carved 
candlesticks made from deers’ horns, and a 
cuckoo clock. And just then out came the little 
cuckoo herself and began to sing. 


“ONE I LOVE, TWO I LOVE” 


/^NE, I love; two, I love; 

Three, I love, I say; 

Four, I love with all my heart; 

Five, I cast away. 

Six, he loves; seven, she loves; 

Eight, both love. 

Nine, he comes; ten, he tarries; 

Eleven, he courts, and twelve, he marries. 

On a big stone by the wayside sat a little boy 
and girl. She held a daisy in her hand, from 
which she slowly picked off the petals as she 
counted : 

“One, I love; two I love.” 

“Whoa!” cried Puss, Junior. 

“Three, I love, I say.” 

Both the children looked up. “What a 
dandy cat,” cried the little girl, “and what a 
beautiful horse.” 

“Give us a ride.^” asked the little boy. 

“Do you know how to ride.^” asked Puss, 
with a grin. 

“I can ride my rocking horse ever so fast,” the 
little boy replied. 

“So can I,” said the little girl. 

“Stand on the stone,” said Puss. “I’ll ride 
up close, and then you both can climb up behind 
67 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 

me. Easy there!” cried Puss, guiding the 
Good Gray Horse up to the children, who stood 
close together on the big high stone. “Now 
climb up behind me,” and in a minute the two 
children had scrambled on to the saddle. “Gid- 
ap!” and off went the Good Gray Horse on a 
canter. 

“Isn’t this great. cried the little boy. 

“Isn’t it lovely.^” said the little girl. 

“One, I love; two, I love; three, I love, I 
say; four, I love with all my heart,” sang Puss. 
“There are just four of us. You two and my 
Good Gray Horse and I.” 

“But that isn’t the way,” said the little girl. 
“You must count the petals!” 

“Oh, is that so.^^” asked Puss. “I like my 
way just the same.” 

“So do I,” said the little boy. “All four of us 
are pretty good chums already.” 

And the Good Gray Horse whinnied, as much 
as to say: “I’m a good friend. See what I’m 
doing — carrying you all so nicely on my big, 
broad back.^” 

“That settles it,” said Puss. “My Good Gray 
Horse likes it that way.” 

“There’s our house over there,” cried the little 
girl. “We’d better get off here.” 

“All right,” and Puss helped them down. 
“Good-by, good-by,” and then the two children 
ran up the path to tell mother all about it. 

68 


LITTLE JENNY WREN 


A S little Jenny Wren 

Was sitting by her shed 
She waggled with her tail, 

She nodded with her head. 

She waggled with her tail 
And nodded with her head. 

As little Jennie Wren 
Was sitting by her shed. 

“May I put up my Good Gray Horse for the 
night.^” asked Puss, Junior. 

“You may, my good Sir Cat,” replied the 
little bird. “Hay you will find for his supper, 
and straw for his bedding.” 

So Puss, Junior, jumped down and led his steed 
inside the big red barn and, after tying him in 
the stall, he looked around for a pitchfork. 

“What are you looking for.^” asked little 
Jenny Wren. 

“A pitchfork, my dear,” announced Puss. 
“I must spread straw for my horse so that he 
may rest comfortably, and bring in some hay 
from the mow for his supper. My paws will not 
do, so I must ask you where I may find the 
pitchfork.” 

“Here it is, my good Sir Cat. Now let me 
see you use it,” answered little Jenny Wren, 
6 69 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


flying over to the opposite side of the shed and 
lighting on the handle of a large hay fork. 

“Now, my little Lady Wren,” cried Puss, 
after spreading the straw about the stall until he 
had a fine bed for the horse, “show me, if you 
please, the haymow, for I must give him some 
hay.” 

“I will show you the oats bin, also,” said the 
Wren, “and here is the measure. You must lift 
this little wooden slide, but see that you don’t 
spill the grain on the floor.” 

Lifting the slide ever so little. Puss held the 
measure carefully under the wooden trough 
until it was filled. Then he carried it over to 
his horse, who neighed twice, as much as to say, 
“Thank you.” 

“And now,” said Jenny Wren, “what about 
yourself, my Lord Cat?” 

“Lord Cat!” laughed Puss. “Do lords tend 
their own steeds? I fear the word Sir is even 
out of place.” 

“Never mind,” said little Jenny Wren, “you 
have the manners of a gentleman, and that is 
enough for me.” 

“Thank you,” said Puss. 

“Come, follow me,” cried Jenny Wren, and 
she led Puss into a pretty little cottage close by. 
“Hang up your cap and place your stick behind 
the door, and then wash your hands in my room. 
By that time I shall have supper ready for you.” 

70 


THE MISCHIEVOUS RAVEN 

A FARMER went trotting upon his gray mare — 
Bumpety, humpety, bump! 

With his daughter behind him so rosy and fair — 
Lumpety, lumpety, lump: 

“ Can you direct me to the wise man who lives 
in yonder village?” asked Puss, Junior, bowing 
politely to the farmer’s pretty daughter. 

“Whoa!” cried the farmer to his gray mare. 

“Isn’t he a lovely cat?” whispered his 
daughter. 

“What did you say?” asked the farmer, look- 
ing Puss, Junior, over from head to toe. 

“I merely inquired,” replied Puss, haughtily, 
“if you could direct me to the wise inan in 
yonder town?” 

“Whoa!” cried the farmer as the old gray 
mare started off. “Whoa, there! Can’t you 
hear the gentleman cat addressing your master?” 

“Whoa, Betsey,” coaxed the farmer’s pretty 
daughter. 

“Well, Sir Cat,” said the farmer, as soon as the 
old mare became quiet, “we have several men in 
our town who think they are wise, but some of us 

farmers don’t quite agree with them.” 

71 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


And then, all of a sudden, something dreadful 
happened. 

A raven cried croak! And they all tumbled down — 
Bumpety, bumpety, bump! 

The mare broke her knees, and the farmer his crown — 
Lumpety, lumpety, lump! 

And, oh, dear me, the farmer’s pretty daughter 
dropped the mirror from her vanity bag, and it 
broke all to smithereens and she felt so unhappy 
about it that she began to cry. And then: 

The mischievous raven flew laughing away — 

Bumpety, bumpety, bump! 

And vowed he would serve them the same the next day, 
Lumpety, lumpety, lump! 

“Botheration!” cried the farmer, rubbing the 
bump on the top of his head. “That raven is 
angry because I set up a scarecrow in my corn- 
field.” 

“Well, father,” said his daughter, “our mare 
can’t take us to town. What shall we do.^^” 

“You get up behind Sir Puss and ride to 
town,” he replied. “I’ll take the mare home. 
That’s the best way, I guess.” 


CANDY TOWN 


TDUSS, JUNIOR, helped the farmer’s pretty 
^ daughter into the saddle, and then away 
went the Good Gray Horse to Candy Town. 
Well, after maybe a mile and a laugh and smile. 
Puss said, “I feel just like a Knight of the Round 
Table, for I have rescued a maiden in distress.” 
And this made the farmer’s pretty daughter 
laugh till her cheeks grew red as two apples. 

“Well, then, I shall call you Sir Cat,” she said, 
and this so pleased Puss that he began to purr at a 
great rate. It was great fun, he thought. And 
the farmer’s daughter thought it great sport, 
too, I imagine, for she began to sing a little song, 
and this is the way it went: 

“Heigh-ho, over we go. 

Pussy and I to town. 

What does he wish? A nice little fish. 

And I a silken gown. 

But where is the money to buy all that, 

Unless I may borrow from Sir Pussy Cat?’* 

“Of course you may,” cried Puss. “Just wait 
till we get to town.” 

And then the farmer’s pretty daughter blushed 
very red. “I was only in fun,” she said. 

73 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 



“But I wasn’t,” replied Puss. 

“Why, have you enough money she asked, 
giving him a hug. 

“Don’t squeeze so tight,” cried Puss. “We 
may have an accident, and one is enough for 
74 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


to-day. I hope your father will get the old 
gray mare home safely.” 

“Never fear,” she replied, “father will attend 
to that, all right.” 

“Here we are,” said Puss, looking up at a sign- 
post on which was written, “Candy Town.” 
“Now, where’s the shop with the silken gowns.^^” 

“Over there. Don’t you see it right next to 
the baker’s shop.” 

“Oh yes,” laughed Puss, “I see it now,” and 
he drew rein in front of the quaint little shop 
and helped the farmer’s daughter to alight. 

“Come in with me,” she said, “for I’d like to 
buy what you like.” And this so pleased Puss 
that he made up his mind to buy any gown she 
fancied, even if it were trimmed with diamonds. 

“Do you want that pretty blue one.^” he 
asked, with a smile. 

“How did you guess.^^” she answered. “You 
are a wonderful cat.” 

“And now,” said Puss, when the gown was 
wrapped up, “let’s have a cream puff in the 
baker’s next door, for I’m sure you’re hungry.” 

“You’re a wonderful guesser. Sir Puss,” she 
cried, “ indeed you are, as well as a most generous 
little cat.” 


THE BRAMBLE-BUSH MAN 


^^HERE was a man in our town, 

-*• And he was wondrous wise. 

He jumped into a bramble bush 
And scratched out both his eyes. 

And when he found his eyes were out 
He cried with grief and pain. 

And jumped into another bush 
And scratched them in again. 

“That’s the man I’m looking for,” cried little 
Puss, Junior. “I wonder where he lives. Maybe 
he can tell me where to find my father.” 

“You hold your horse while I ask the baker’s 
wife,” said the farmer’s pretty daughter. 

Pretty soon she came back and said: “He lives 
in a little house just outside the town. It’s not 
far from our place.” 

So she and Puss rode away, and she was 
mighty careful, let me tell you, not to drop the 
package containing the silk gown which Puss 
had given her. 

Well, by and by they came to the wise man’s 
little house, surrounded by a hedge of bramble 
bushes; but the wise man himself was nowhere 
to be seen. 

“Let’s go around to the barn,” said the 

76 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


farmer’s pretty daughter. “It’s milking time, 
you know.” And, sure enough, there they found 
him. 

“Are you the man who jumped into the 
bramble bush.^” asked Puss. 

“Yes, I am. But let me tell you something. 
They call me a wise man, but I think a man who 
jumps into a bramble bush is a silly goose.” 

And then, all of a sudden, the Bramble-bush 
Man exclaimed: “Goodness me! I once knew a 
cat who wore red- top boots. A good many 
years ago there lived near here a miller who 
had three sons. When he died he left all his 
property to the two eldest, but to the youngest 
only a cat. Well, this cat turned out to be a 
most wonderful cat. Indeed, I heard that he 
secured a magnificent castle for his young master, 
as well as the hand of a lovely princess.” 

“Where does he live.^” cried Puss, in great 
excitement. 

“That I cannot tell,” replied the Bramble- 
bush Man, “for I never heard where he went 
after leaving here.” 

“Oh, dear me!” sighed little Puss, Junior. 
“Nobody knows where my father lives.” Then 
he and the farmer’s pretty daughter rode away, 
and in the next story you shall hear what hap- 
pened at the old farmhouse. 


DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY 


“ p\AFFY-DOWN-DILLY has come to town 

In a yellow petticoat and a green gown,” 

sang the farmer’s pretty daughter beneath Puss, 
Junior’s, window. There she stood, bending 
over her flower bed, the pink strings of her 
bonnet floating on the morning breeze. 

Puss hurriedly pulled on his boots and ran 
outside. “Good morning! I see your flowers 
are still in bed.” 

“Daffy and Down and Dilly are very lazy, I 
fear,” laughed the farmer’s pretty daughter; 
“the^'^’ll never get to town to buy a new gown 
if they don’t hurry.” 

“I hope they won’t meet any bad crows on 
their journey,” replied Puss. 

“And I hope they won’t have any bumpety 
bumps!” said the farmer’s pretty daughter. 

Just then the farmer came out of the barn 
leading Puss, Junior’s, Good Gray Hotse. 

“Good-by,” said Puss. “I’ve had a pleasant 
visit.” And off he rode. By and by, after a 
while, he met an old crow walking along the top 
of the fence. He wore a silk hat and carried a 
cane, but he couldn’t lean on it, for the fence 
rail was so narrow, you see. 

78 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


“Hello!” said Puss, Junior. And, goodness 
me ! that well-dressed crow nearly lost his 
balance, he was so startled at Puss, Junior’s, 
voice. 

Well, as soon as he had caught his breath, he 
said: 

“I have just found a beautiful pearl necklace. 
Do you think it belongs to the Queen of Hearts.^” 



“I’m sure I don’t know,” answered Puss. 
“Suppose you come along with me and maybe 
we’ll find the owner.” 

So the silk-hatted old crow sat himself down 
behind Puss, and the Good Gray Horse kicked 
out his heels, and away they went to the next 
village, and when they reached there they 
stopped before the office of the Mother Goose 
79 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


daily newspaper and asked the man who ran the 
“Lost and Found” advertisements if he knew 
who had lost a beautiful pearl necklace of twenty- 
three pearls and a little diamond clasp 

“Let me think,” he said, scratching the top 
of his head, which was as bald as a billiard ball. 
You see, he was a bald-headed eagle, although I 
forgot to mention it before. 

“You might inquire at a little green house 
about a mile down the road. A little yellow hen 
lives there who once had a coral necklace.” So 
Puss said gid-ap to the Good Gray Horse and 
rode away, and by and by, after a while, they 
came to the little green house. And when the 
old crow knocked on the door it was opened by 
the little yellow hen herself. 

“Have you lost a necklace of pearls.^” he ' 
asked, politely doffing his silk hat. 

“Dearie me! Let me look,” she answered, 
hopping back into her little house. Pretty soon 
she came back with a little jewel case, which 
was as empty as a Christmas stocking on the 
Fourth of July. 

“Who could have taken it out.^” she said. 

So the honest old crow handed over the pearl 
necklace, and went inside for a cup of tea, while 
Puss said good-by and rode away. 


“DONKEY, DONKEY, OLD AND GRAY” 

“ T^ONKEY, donkey, old and gray. 

Open your mouth and gently bray; 

Lift your ears and blow your horn 
To wake the world this sleepy morn,” 

sang little Puss, Junior. 

“I’m no rooster,” replied the little donkey. 
But he gave a gentle bray, just the same, and 
then the Good Gray Horse neighed, and after that 
a little adder crawled out of a hole in the ground 
and said : 

“Gracious me! What’s all this noise.?” And 
that only goes to show what a dreadful din it 
must have been, for adders are deaf, so they tell 
ne. 

Well, anyhow. Puss didn’t wait any longer, 
but rode away, and by and by, after a while, he 
met a funny little man with a sack oyer his back. 

“What have you in your bag.?” asked Puss, 
for he felt sorry for the little old man and meant 
to give him a lift in case he had a heavy load, 
you see. 

“What’s that to you.?” asked the little old 
man, with a scowl. And before you could say 
“Jack Robinson!” he disappeared inside a stump. 

Puss jumped off his Good Gray Horse and 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


peeped in. But he couldn’t see anything, only 
a big black hole. Well, he was just going to turn 
away when he heard a voice say: 

“Mother, I’ve brought you a bag of gold 
For the little pink-and-white pig I sold.” 



So Puss peeped in again, and pretty soon he 
saw a tiny light way down deep, like the flicker 
of a candle. And by and by, as his eyes grew 
used to the darkness, he saw a flight of stairs. 
Then what do you think he did? Jump into the 
hollow stump and climb down? That’s just 
82 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


what he did, and it wasn’t long before he found 
himself in a little hall opposite a small door with 
a glass knob inside of which was an electric 
light, which I suppose had been put there by the 
little old man in case he got home after twelve 
at night and his wife had blown out the candle. 

All of a sudden the door opened and a little old 
woman, bent and withered, asked, in a shrill 
voice: 

“How dare you come down to our Hollow Stump hall? 

I’ll cut off your whiskers, tail and all.” 

“Please, ma’am,” said little Puss, Junior, 
“I won’t tell anybody.” And I guess he would 
have climbed up the stairs then and there if he 
hadn’t feared she might cut off his tail when he 
turned around. 

“Let him go, mother,” said the little old man. 
“He would have given me a ride on his horse on 
my way home had we met sooner.” But how 
he knew that is more than I can tell. “Here, 
Sir Cat. Take this gold piece and tell neither 
man nor beast where you got it.” And he 
pushed Puss up the little flight of stairs. 


‘‘TICK, TACK, TOO” 


O NE day Puss, Junior’s, Good Gray Horse 
lost a shoe. 

“Gracious me! I must find a smithy,” said 
Puss, Junior, anxiously. Luckily there was a 
small village near by, and pretty soon he drew 
rein in front of a blacksmith shop. But, oh, 
dear me! there was no one there except a small 
boy. 


Jack Jingle went ’prentice 
To make a horseshoe; 

He wasted the iron 
Till it would not do. 

His master came in 
And began for to rail. 

Said Jack, “The shoe’s spoiled. 
But ’twill still make a nail.” 

He tried at the nail, 

But, chancing to miss. 

Said, “If it won’t make a nail. 
It shall yet make a hiss.” 

Then into the water 

Threw the hot iron, smack, 

“Hiss!” quoth the iron. 

“I thought so,” said Jack. 

84 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


“You good for nothing!’’ cried the blacksmith, 
coming into the shop, “here’s a customer at hand 
and you have no shoe for his horse.” 

“How long will it take to make one.^” asked 
Puss, Junior. 

“All day and maybe longer,” said the smith — 
“that is, if you depend on that clumsy lad.” 



“Well, I don’t want to depend on him,” said 
Puss, with a grin; “neither do I want to take 
chances with my good horse.” 

. “Neither shall you, my Lord Cat,” replied 
the smith. “I will see that your horse is well 
shod, for he is indeed a fine beast.” 

“He has good legs, has he not.?” asked Puss, 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


running his paw down the foreleg of the big 
gray horse, like a professional horseman. 

“He has that,” said the blacksmith, “and a 
fine head, too.” 

“He’s a good roadster,” added Puss, seating 
himself on a three-legged stool while the smith 
lifted the horse’s leg and held it between his 
knees. 

“Yes, he has good feet,” said the smith, 
“and he shall have a fine shoe.” 

Here a nail, and there a nail, tick tack, too. 

As soon as the shoe was on. Puss, Junior, 
mounted and rode away. But before he left he 
turned to Jack and said: 

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. 

Tick, tack, too; learn to make a shoe! 

Some day you may turn out ten 
If you don’t get blue.” 


LULLABY BABY 


ly/r ATTHEW, Mark, Luke, and John, 

Bless the bed I lie upon. 

Four corners to my bed. 

Five angels there lie spread; 

Two at my head. 

Two at my feet, 

One at my heart. 

My soul to keep. 

Puss, Junior, looked in at the window. On a 
little white bed lay a pretty child. 

“Now go to sleep, my little one,“ softly whis- 
pered his mother. “Snuggle down and find a 
little dream — a little dream about woolly lambs 
and white daisies.” 

Then she tiptoed from the room, and no sound 
was heard except her footsteps on the stairs. 
Just as she looked through the open door she saw 
Puss slide down the post that held up the roof 
of the porch. 

“Don’t worry, madam,” he explained, politely. 
“I climbed up to see if anyone were at home. 
Nobody answered the doorbell. But when I saw 
your little boy I kept very, very still so as not to 
disturb him.” 

“You are a good cat,” she answered, with a 
sigh of relief. “I’m glad you were quiet.” 

87 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 

“I am very tired, madam,” said Puss, “for 
I have journeyed far to-day. Would it be 
asking too much if I might sleep on your front 
porch?” 

“You may sleep on a big red cushion in the 
hall,” she replied, “and I will also give you a bowl 
of milk.” 



“May I put my Good Gray Horse in your 
barn?” 

“Of course,” she answered. “You will find 
plenty of hay and oats for his supper.” 

The Good Gray Horse followed his small mas- 
ter to the stable and was soon made comfortable 
88 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


for the night. Then Puss locked the stable door 
and brought the key into the house. 

“Hang it up on the nail behind the door,’’ 
said the mother of the little child. “And take 
off your boots. They make so much noise on 
the kitchen floor. I fear they will keep my 
little one awake.” 

“I will gladly take them off,” said Puss, and 
he placed them behind the door underneath the 
big barn key. 

“My husband will be home very soon,” she 
said, “but if you are very tired I will give you 
your supper at once.” 

“I would like it now,” said Puss, with a weary 
sigh. And when he had finished he jumped upon 
the big red cushion and was soon fast asleep. 


THE FIRE 


ly/fY Lady Wind, my Lady Wind, 

^ ^ Went round about the house to find 
A chink to get her foot in; 

She tried the keyhole in the door, 

She tried the crevice in the floor. 

And drove the chimney soot in. 

And then one night when it was dark 
She blew up such a tiny spark 
That all the house was pothered; 

From it she raised up such a flame 
As flamed away to Belting Lane, 

And White Cross folks were smothered. 

Puss, Junior, awoke with a start to find his 
room filled with smoke. And, oh, dear me! 
when he opened his door red flames were already 
crawling up the woodwork. 

Running up the stairs two at a time, he 
pounded on the nursery door and shouted, “Fire! 
fire!” And then, of course, the baby awoke 
with a cry. 

“Oh, Puss, Junior, what shall I do?” cried the 
mother, for the cruel flames were now creeping 
across the hall. 

“Don’t open the door,” he cried. “The hall 
is a mass of flames. Climb through the window 

90 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 

to the roof of the porch. Be quick!” and he 
jumped through the little hall window and ran 
across the roof to the nursery. “Come out 
here!” he shouted. “Be quick, or the flames 
will be in your room before you can get out.” 
Just then, all of a sudden, a ladder was placed 



against the porch, and a kind fireman with a big 
red helmet on his head held out his arms. “Give 
me the baby and follow me.” Puss held the top 
of the ladder to steady it until they were safe 
on the ground and then slid down without touch- 
ing the rungs. 


91 


PUSS IN BOOTS, m., AND 

“Our pretty house will be burned,” sobbed 
the baby’s mother. 

“And my red-top boots,” cried Puss. 

“There goes the stable!” shouted the fireman. 

“Goodness me!” cried Puss. “I’d better get 
my Good Gray Horse!” 

By this time the hose was connected and soon 
the engine was pumping water on the flames. 
But, oh, dear me! it was too late. The pretty 
little house quickly burned to the ground — only 
the big red chimney was left. It was hard work 
to save the stable, but at last the flames were put 
out. 

“We all must sleep in the hay loft,” said Puss. 

So the Good Gray Horse was led back into his 
stall. He was the only one who was comfortable 
that night, I guess. 


THE OLD WOMAN’S RIDDLE 


dear me!” sighed little Puss, Junior, 
as he thought of his lovely red-top boots 
which had been destroyed by the fire. “Where 
shall I get another pair.?^” for he knew that no 
ordinary bootmaker had the skill to make boots 
for a cat. However, when he mounted his Good 
Gray Horse he found, to his surprise, a couple 
of gold sovereigns in his pocket. “That’s some- 
thing to be thankful for,” he laughed, as he set 
out upon his journey through Old Mother Goose 
Land. “I’ll stop at the first cobbler shop and 
see what I can buy.” 

As he rode gayly along he came across a funny 
little old woman. On her head was a red sun- 
bonnet and over her shoulders a bright-green 
shawl. Black -lace mits covered her thin hands, 
and a pair of white slippers her two little feet. 

“My good woman,” said Puss, Junior, politely 
raising his cap as he drew in his Good Gray 
Horse, “can you tell me where I may find a 
shoemaker.?” 

The old woman smiled and said: 

*‘What shoemaker makes shoes without leather. 
With all the four elements put together? 

Fire and water, earth and air, 

And every customer wears a pair.” 

93 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


“I don’t know,” answered Puss. 

“Why, a blacksmith, you goosey!” cried the 
little old woman, tossing her head. 

“I don’t want shoes for my Good Gray Horse,” 
said Puss, in a disgusted tone of voice. “I want 
a pair of shoes for myself.” 

“Ho, ho!” laughed the little old woman. 
“So my fine Sir Cat would have a pair of shoes.^” 
“No, my good woman — a pair of bootsF' 
“Well, then,” she replied, “keep on your way 
until you reach yonder village. Then cross the 
bridge and you will soon come to a bootmaker. 
He will, no doubt, be able to fit a pair of boots 
to Your Royal Highness’s feet.” Then she turned 
up a lane and left Puss to continue his way alone. 

“Ah, me!” sighed Puss. “I don’t feel a bit 
like myself without my red-topped boots. In- 
deed, I feel like an impostor. How will anyone 
believe that I am Puss in Boots, Junior, if I have 
no boots.?^” And, for the first time in his life, 
he felt discouraged. He had met with many 
disappointments on his journey through Mother 
Goose country, but to be without boots seemed 
almost too hard to bear. Still, with a brave 
heart, he rode on toward the village. “I have at 
least the money with which to buy them,” he 
said, “and this is much to be thankful for.” 
Which was a wise saying, I think, for a cat who 
had been out in the world for so short a time as 
had little Puss, Junior. 

94 


THE COBBLER 


“/^AN you make me a pair of boots?” asked 
Puss, Junior, reining in his Good Gray 

Horse. 

The cobbler, who was sitting close to the open 
window of his little shop, looked up from his 
bench. 

“Will you need two pair?” he asked. 

“One pair, my good man,” replied Puss, 
Junior, haughtily. “Do you imagine I wear 
boots on my front paws?” 

“Well, my good Sir Cat,” answered the cob- 
bler, “I did not know for certain. I can make 
two pair as well as one.” 

“And charge for two pair, I warrant, also,” 
cried Puss, with a grin. 

“I can give you fine work,” said the cobbler. 

“Are you sure?” asked Puss. “My last pair, 
which was unfortunately burned up in a fire, 
was made by a royal cobbler.” 

“I have not made boots for royalty,” replied 
the cobbler, “but I made the shoe in which an 
old woman lives with so many children that it 
would take you an hour to count them all. That 
was some job, let me tell you. One doesn’t often 
live in a shoe, although one may walk in one.” 

95 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


“You don’t mean to tell me you made that 
wonderful shoe.^” cried Puss. 

“Most certainly, my good Sir Cat.” 



“Then you shall make me a pair of boots. 
And, mind you, my good man, they must have 
red tops.” 

“That they shall,” said the cobbler. “Dis- 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


mount, and come into my humble shop. I would 
measure your feet.’’ 

“Perhaps you have a pair on hand that will 
fit me,” said Puss, gazing about the tiny shop. 

“I will see,” replied the cobbler. 

“I am in haste,” said Puss, as the cobbler 
looked over his stock. “I am in haste, for I 
have yet a long journey before me, and cannot 
delay. I am in search of my illustrious father. 
Puss in Boots.” 

“What!” cried the cobbler. “I once made a 
pair of boots for a cat. Could it have been the 
noble Puss in Boots.^” 

“Tell me where he lives,” cried Puss, much 
excited. 

“Ah,” replied the cobbler, “that I do not 
know, for it is many years ago since I made the 
boots. But here is a pair I think will fit you.” 

“I would rather that you had told me where my 
father lives,” said little Puss, Junior, “than to 
have found a pair of boots.” 

“They are certainly a fine fit,” said the 
cobbler, gazing with admiration at Puss, Junior’s, 
feet. 

“Yes,” answered Puss, “and here is the money. 
Good-by,” and off rode our little hero, still in 
search of his father, the famous Puss in Boots. 


DOCTOR DRAKE 


'T^OCTOR DRAKE kept a shop, 

Of dimensions not large, 

In a hole in the haystack 
By the side of the yard. 

Where he dispensed certain small stones 
And one or two gravels. 

With sundry rare herbs 
He had found in his travels. 

“I hope the good doctor’s at home,” said Puss, 
as he reined in his Good Gray Horse. “I don’t 
feel at all well to-day.” 

So he dismounted and knocked on the front 
door, and pretty soon the famous duck doctor 
appeared. He wore a big pair of spectacles and 
a very high collar, around which was tied a green 
cravat which matched the feathers of his tail. 

“Quack, quack!” said Doctor Drake. “What 
do you want.^” 

“I don’t know, Doctor,” answered Puss, 
Junior. “I feel far from well; in fact, I think 
I’m going to be very ill.” 

“Don’t worry,” replied Doctor Drake; “that’s 
what we doctors are looking for — sick people. I 
can cure you, never fear.” 

“Thank you,” said Puss, Junior. 

98 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 



“Don’t thank me yet,” answered Doctor 
Drake; “wait till you’re cured— then pay me.” 
“That will I gladly do,” replied Puss, Junior; 

“only make me feel like myself again.” 

99 



PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


“I think,” said Doctor Drake, after looking at 
Puss, Junior’s, tongue, ‘‘you had better give up 
horseback riding; it’s bad for you.” 

“Oh, dear!” sighed poor Puss, Junior. “What 
shall I do with my Good Gray Horse.^” 

“Sell him to me,” replied Doctor Drake. 
“I’m in need of a horse. My practice is growing 
so large I find it difficult to make my calls.” 

“Yes, I suppose you do,” said Puss. “Your 
feet are not for walking, but for swimming.” 

“Right you are,” assented the doctor. “Of 
course, some of my patients live in the pond; 
but, then, again, a lot of them don’t. Take these 
pills.” And the famous duck doctor handed 
Puss, Junior, a little round box. “One every 
hour; they’ll soon fix you up, all right. Now, 
how much do you want for your horse.^” 

Puss, Junior, scratched his head. “What will 
you give.^” he asked, tearfully. 

“Twenty -five pounds/’ replied the doctor. 
“Very well,” said Puss. “The horse is yours. 
Give me my money and I will journey along on 
foot, though it goes hard with me to part with 
my faithful steed.” Then, tucking the box of 
pills in his pocket. Puss proceeded on his journey. 


‘‘NO BIGGER THAN MY THUMB” 


H aving traveled so long on horseback, Puss, 
Junior, found it hard to resume his journey 
on foot. However, he manfully set out once 
more. The pills Doctor Drake had given him 
made him feel quite frisky, and he ran along at a 
good rate. In fact, he felt that perhaps he might 
just as well have kept his Good Gray Horse and 
taken the chance of becoming really ill. But 
it was too late now; the bargain had been made 
and he must make the best of it. So on he 
jogged, whistling a merry tune to help along his 
tired feet. 

By and by he came to a pretty cottage and, 
entering the front gate, looked in through the 
window. At a table sat a woman, singing: 

“I had a little husband, no bigger than my thumb; 

I put him in a pint pot, and there I bid him drum. 

I bought a little horse that galloped up and down; 

I saddled him and bridled him and sent him out of town. 

I gave him some garters to garter up his hose. 

And a little pocket handkerchief to wipe his pretty nose.” 

“I wish she had given me the little horse,” said 
Puss, with a sigh, “for I certainly miss my good 
gray steed.” 

8 


101 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND' 


Just then the woman looked up and, seeing 
Puss at the window, called out, “ Come in, little 
Sir Cat.” 

Puss, Junior, jumped nimbly through the open 
window and stood beside her. 

“What do you think of my little husband.^” 

“He certainly is no bigger than your thumb, 
madam.” 

“He is a good little man, all the same,” she 
replied, “and when he’s astride of his little horse 
he makes a fine appearance. Wait, and I will 
show you how well he can ride.” 

All of a sudden Puss heard the pawing of 
hoofs, and there stood the prettiest little horse 
he had ever seen. It was no larger than a play 
toy, but well built. A long, silky mane fell over 
his neck, and a curly tail almost reached to the 
ground. Then, quick as a wink, the little hus- 
band jumped out of the pint pot and vaulted 
nimbly into the saddle. 

“Gid-ap,” he cried, and away went the little 
horse down the road. 

“Good-by, madam,” cried Puss, running after 
the tiny^ horseman. But it was impossible to 
catch up with him, and pretty soon he disap- 
peared in a cloud of dust. “Well, well,” cried 
Puss to himself, “I had no idea that such a tiny 
steed could run so fast. Will wonders never 
cease until I have found my dear father, Puss in 
Boots 


102 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


Then, taking out his pocket handkerchief, he 
wiped his forehead. “I shall not despair, how- 
ever,” he said, bravely, ‘‘for I have a good pair 
of legs, and all journeys come to an end at last, 
so I shall keep merrily on my way.” 


TELL-TALE-TIT 


'T'ELL-TALE-TIT! 

Your tongue shall be slit. 

And all the dogs in the town 
Shall have a little bit. 

Oh, dear me! This is what was going to hap- 
pen to the little girl who had told on her brothers. 
And all the little dogs were standing around, 
wagging their tails, as Puss, Junior, passed by. 

It was a wonder that the dogs didn’t rush out 
and bark at him, but they were so anxious to get 
a piece of the little girl’s tongue that they didn’t 
notice him at all. Perhaps a cat with boots and 
spurs, a hat and plume, and a trusty sword 
didn’t look like an ordinary cat to them. And 
neither was our little traveler. 

You see, these little boys had gone into an 
alley to play marbles, on their way to school, and 
then the little girl had told her father how they 
had missed their lessons. 

“And Jimmy Jones won all the marbles, and 
there was a fight ! And the teacher kept them in 
after school!” 

“Oh me! oh my!” cried Puss, Junior. “Please 
don’t slit her tongue!” 

104 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


“But why did you tell tales on your brothers?” 
asked her father. 

“Oh, please don’t slit her tongue!” cried 
Puss, Junior, again. 

“That’s what they did in Mother Goose.'' 

“It must have been very long ago in the dark 
ages,” answered Puss, laying hold of his sword. 

“Well, it’s only a rhyme!” laughed her father, 
picking up his little girl and hugging her. “ Come 
on. Sir Cat, follow me. You are quite a Knight 
of the Round Table. If a fair lady be in distress 
you are her champion!” 

Pretty soon all three came to a little house 
and Puss was invited to come in and play. 
There was a nice swing under an old apple tree, 
and soon he was swinging as high as the little girl 
could push him. All of a sudden he jumped 
out up among the branches and hung on to a 
limb, just like a trapeze performer. 

“I once was with a circus,” he explained, 
sliding down the rope and turning a somersault 
on the ground. 

Just then the little boys came in the gate and 
how they did laugh! And Jimmy gave Puss all 
the marbles which he had won, and his father, 
who had been sitting on the porch watching the 
fun, gave Puss a dollar. After that they all 
went in for lunch and Puss didn’t start out on his 
journey until late in the afternoon. 


ON THE WAY 


the way, on the way. 

To see my father, old and gray. 

Faster still, my good gray steed, 

Over ‘hill and flowering mead. 

“Faster, faster, Good Gray Horse, 

Hasten swiftly on your course. 

Till I see the stately towers 
Where my father spends his hours.” 

“Urge me not too much!” panted the faithful 
steed. “I’m doing my best, but these hills have 
made me short of breath.” 

Dear me! I forgot to tell you that the Good 
Gray Horse had run away from the famous Doc- 
tor Drake and had caught up to Puss, Junior, just 
as I commenced this story. 

“Forgive me,” cried little Puss, Junior. “In 
my anxiety to see my father I have been selfish.” 
And he slipped a lump of sugar into the mouth 
of the Good Gray Horse. 

Well, after several miles had gone by. Puss 
drew rein at a drinking trough beside the road, 
where his faithful steed drank long and deep. 
And as they rested a while, who should fly by but 
a busy bumblebee, buzzing from flower to flower. 

He was a jolly -looking bee, and presently he 
106 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


said to Puss, ‘‘Whither are you bound, my good 
Sir Cat?” 



“To the castle of my Lord of Carabas,” re- 
plied our little traveler. “I’m seeking my 

father, who is seneschal to my lord.” 

107 



PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


“Ah, is that so?’’ exclaimed the bee. “These 
are stirring times. I heard only last week that 
my Lord of Carabas was going to war!” 

“What!” exclaimed our small hero, jumping to 
his feet and clapping his paw to his sword. “I 
must hurry on!” 

“Bravely spoken,” answered the bee. “I 
have seen many soldiers at the castle of late. 
Indeed, the country is all excitement — ^flags 
flying, drums beating, men drilling, women 
scraping lint. All is bustle and hustle.” 

“And what brings you so far from there?” 
inquired Puss, replacing his sword in his scabbard. 

“My two good wings,” replied the bumblebee, 
and he laughed as he dove head first into a 
flower after its dewj^ sweetness. 

“Come, little master,” cried the Good Gray 
Horse. “I am rested. Let us hasten on our 
journey.” 

Puss bade good-by to the golden bumblebee 
and sprang once more into the saddle. And the 
Good Gray Horse threw out his heels and gal- 
loped off toward the castle of my Lord of Car- 
abas, but evening came upon them and they 
were still far from their destination, so Puss dis- 
mounted for the night beneath a grove of trees. 


LITTLE BOY BLUE 


OU remember in the last story that Puss 
and his Good Gray Horse had camped in a 
grove of trees for the night. Well, just as Puss 
was about to curl up and take a little trip to 
dreamland he heard a voice singing: 

“Little Boy Blue, 

Come, leave your toys. 

It’s time to wash hands 
For little boys. 

“Supper is ready. 

You must not wait. 

Tuck in your napkin 

And don’t tip your plate. 

“Oh, where is Boy Blue? 

Let’s all take a peep. 

He’s there on the sofa. 

Fast asleep.” 

Puss opened his eyes and saw a little light 
twinkling through the trees. So he got up and 
went toward it to find that it shone from the 
window of a small cottage. As he knocked on 
the door he thought, ‘T may be asked to spend the 
night, and that will be much more comfortable 

than l3dng beneath the trees. And it turned out 

109 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


just as he thought. The pretty woman who 
opened the door asked him in, saying, softly: 

“Tiptoe in, my dear Puss, Junior, for Boy 
Blue has just gone to sleep.” And you know 
how softly a cat can tiptoe! But of course he 
first slipped off his red-topped boots with their 
clanking spurs. 

Then Boy Blue’s mother gave Puss, Junior, 
some milk and cake, and after that he put his 
Good Gray Horse in the stable and came back 
to sit down by the fire. 

Over the mantelpiece hung a silver horn, and 
as Puss looked up at it he remembered long ago 
in Old Mother Goose Land a little Boy Blue 
who blew his horn to call the cows from the 
fields of corn. 

“Does your little Boy Blue go to sleep in a 
haystack.?” 

“No, my dear,” laughingly replied his mother, 
“but his father did. And that’s the horn he 
used to blow in the early morn to call the cows 
and the woolly sheep when under the haystack 
he’d fallen asleep.” 

“I met him once, a long time ago,” said little 
Puss, Junior. “I remember the place quite well. 
He carried me on his shoulder over to see little 
Miss Muffet who sat on a tuffet, and she gave 
us some curds and whey till a horrid old 
spider sat down beside us and frightened her 
away.” 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


“And so you were the little cat who was with 
him, were you?” said little Boy Blue’s mother. 

But Puss didn’t answer, for he had fallen fast 
asleep and was dreaming that he was once more 
with his dear father, the famous Puss in Boots. 


ALPHABET TOWN 


N OW let me see. Where did I leave off in 
the last story.? Oh yes, I remember now. 
Little Puss, Junior, had fallen asleep in the house 
where little Boy Blue lived. Yes, Puss had 
fallen asleep in front of the fireplace over which 
hung the silver horn that called the cows from the 
fields of corn. Well, the next morning the horn 
began blowing all by itself, and this, of course, 
woke up everybody in the house; so Puss washed 
his face and hands and curled his whiskers and 
after that he pulled on his red-topped boots and 
was ready for breakfast. Then Mrs. Boy Blue 
came downstairs with little Boy Blue. He was 
only three years old, but he could blow a horn, 
though I don’t think the cows paid much atten- 
tion to him, for they knew he was only doing it in 
fun, you see. 

Well, after breakfast. Puss, Junior, bade them 
all good-by and mounted his Good Gray Horse, 
and by and by, after he had ridden many a mile, 
he came to a very queer place — it was called 
Alphabet Town. But the strangest thing of all 
was that the alphabet was alive. Yes, from 
A to Z it was alive, and Puss was so interested 
that he drew rein at the gates of Alphabet Town 
because, he said to himself, “If I expect to get 
112 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


through Mother Goose Land I must learn the 
alphabet, and the sooner I learn it the sooner I 
shall see my dear father.” So he went up to the 
schoolhouse and this is what he learned : 

A was an Ant who worked all the day. 

B was a Butterfly, flitting away. 

C was a Cherry that hung on a tree. 

D was a Daisy that grew on the lea. 

E was an Elm that stood by the school. 

F was a Frog that lived in a pool. 

G was a Goat with a beard on his face. 

H was a Horse that won a fine race. 

I was an Insect that fed on a peach. 

J was ^ Jay Bird whose song was a screech. 

K was a Kitten that played with a string. 

L was a Lambkin that browsed in the spring. 

M was a Magpie that stole a gold spoon. 

N was the Nest where she slept ’neath the moon. 

O was the Oak Tree that held safe the nest. 

' P was a Pigeon with soft purple vest. 

Q was a Quail that was shot with a gun. 

R was a Rooster that woke up the sun. 

S was a Snail that was awfully slow. 

T was a Turtle, no faster, you know. . 

U was a Unicorn; of him you have heard. 

V was a Vulture, a rapacious bird. 

W was a Wren that made a sweet noise. 

X was a Xmas Tree, covered with toys. 

Y was a Yule Log, dragged through the snow. 

Z was a Zero when winter winds blow. 

And I think when I tell you that Puss learned 
this alphabet in less than half an hour you will 

agree with me he was a very bright cat. 

113 


LUCY LOCKET 


“/^ID-AP!” said Puss, Junior. “Gid-ap, my 
good steed, for we must hasten on. ’Tis 
yet a long ways we must journey ere I find my 
illustrious father. Puss in Boots.” 

The Good Gray Horse quickened his pace, 
and soon many a mile was left behind. 

At length Puss saw a little girl in the doorway 
of a cottage. * 

Lucy Locket 
Lost her pocket; 

Kitty Fisher 
Found it; 

Nothing in it. 

Nothing in it. 

But the binding 
Round it. 

“Whoa!” cried Puss. “ Can I help you, miss?” 

“I’m so disappointed!” cried the little girl. 
“I thought there might be a bright penny inside.” 

“Are you sure there isn’t?” asked Puss, 
sympathetically. “Do you want a penny very 
much?” 

“Yes,” replied the child, 

“Well, here’s one,” replied Puss, thrusting his 
paw into his pocket and bringing out a bright 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


penny. Leaning down from his horse, he handed 
it to the little maid. 

“What are you going to buy with it?” he 
asked. 

“Peppermint stick,” she answered. “Pep- 
permint stick with red rings all around it.” 



“That sounds pretty nice,’’ said Puss. 
“Where’s the candy shop?” 

“Just over there,” she replied, pointing to a 
small shop on the opposite side of the street. 
“Let’s go in,” suggested Puss, dismounting 
115 



PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 

and tying his Good Gray Horse to the hitching 
post. 

The candy shop smelled very nice. Molasses 
candy in long yellow coils lay in the glass cases. 
Sticks of pink-and-white peppermint candy stood 
in big glass bowls with shiny glass stoppers. 
Chocolate drops were ranged in long glass dishes. 
There were gumdrops and marshmallows, and 
goodness knows what all. Puss thrust his paw 
deep into his pocket, for he knew that one little 
penny wouldn’t go very far in this candy shop. 

“What other kind do you like.f^” he asked. 

“Why don’t you call me Kitty laughed the 
little maid. “My name is Kitty Fisher.” 

Just then another little girl appeared. 

“Hello, Lucy Locket!” cried Kitty. 

“I’ve just lost my pocket,” said Lucy. “Did 
you happen to find it.?” 

“Yes,” replied Kitty, “but there was nothing 
in it. Just a ribbon round it.” 

“That’s ’cause I took out my penny,” answered 
Lucy, “and I’m going to spend it right here 
before I lose it.” 

Soon both little girls had eaten their pepper- 
mint-candy sticks. And after Puss had given his 
Good Gray Horse a big lump of sugar he mount- 
ed and rode away. 


TOM, THE PIPER’S SON 

“^T^OM was a piper’s son, 

He learned to play when he was young; 

But all the tune that he could play 
Was ‘Over the hills and far away.’” 

“Well, it’s a pretty fine tune,” said Puss, 
Junior, to himself, as the strains from Tom’s pipe 
came clear and sweet across the meadow. “I 
wish I could play as well.” Again the music 
came down the breeze, clear and sweet, and 
pretty soon Tom came capering toward him, 
followed by a crowd of boys and girls. 

‘ ‘ Heigh-ho ! ’ ’ laughed Puss . “ Here they come, 
dancing away, as if they had nothing to do but 
play all the day long.” ' 

“Over the hills and far away!” piped Tom. 

“Good morning!” cried Puss. 

“Come and dance,” said the piper’s son, tak- 
ing the pipe from his mouth; “come and have 
a merry dance. Make those red-topped booties 
prance.” 

“Then play a merry jig,” answered Puss, 
catching up a small pig and waltzing him around 
at a giddy rate. 

“Hold on!” cried the pig. “I’m getting 
dizzy.” 

9 


117 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


“I won’t let you fall,” replied Puss, with a grin. 

“Let go!” squeaked the pig. “I tell you I’m 
getting dizzy!” 

“Well, why didn’t you say ‘let go’ at first,” 
laughed Puss. “You said, ‘hold on.’” 

By this time the poor pig was so out of breath 
that he rolled over on his side and lay quite still 
until a small boy said: 

“Your tail is all twisted from dancing around 
and around.” 

“Nonsense!” replied the pig, sitting up. 
“Pigs’ tails are always twisted. Dancing makes 
your head go around, but it doesn’t curl your 
tail.” 

Then all of a sudden Tom commenced to play 
again. 

“Oh, please don’t!” cried the breathless pig. 
“I don’t want to dance any more.” 

Tom with his pipe did piay with such skill 

That those who heard him could never stand still; 

Whenever they heard him they began to dance — 

Even pigs on their hind legs would after him prance. 

And, goodness me! it was such wonderful 
music that even Puss couldn’t keep still, but 
must needs dance with a little girl in a blue dress, 
until Tom was out of breath and too tired to play 
any longer. 


OLD DAME TROT 


A S soon as Tom, the piper’s son, stopped play- 
ing everybody sat down to rest, even the 
little pig who had been waltzing about on his 
hind legs. He didn’t try to run away. I guess 
he was too tired for that. Pretty soon he took 
out a yellow handkerchief and wiped the per- 
spiration from his pink nose, and after that 
the little girl in blue asked Puss, Junior, where 
he had learned to dance. 

“At Mademoiselle Feline’s dancing school,” 
replied Puss. “She taught twenty-one little 
kittens twice a week.” 

Just then, all of a sudden, Tom, the piper’s 
son, jumped to his feet and started off, and 
before very long 

He met Old Dame Trot with a basket of eggs; 

He used his pipe and she used her legs; 

She danced about till the eggs were all broke; 

She began to fret, but he laughed at the joke. 

“I think it very mean of you to break an old 
lady’s eggs,” cried Puss. 

“I’m sorry your eggs are broken,” cried Tom 
to Old Dame Trot. “If you’ll come with me 

119 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


I’ll show you where there’s a nest full of eggs; 
it’s in the dry grass under the raspberry bushes 
in yonder meadow.” 

But the old lady had gone only a few steps 
when 

Tom saw a cross fellow beating an ass 
Heavy laden with pots, pans, dishes, and glass; 

He took out his pipe and played them a tune. 

And the jackass’s load was lightened full soon. 

“It serves that fellow right,” cried Puss. 
“His donkey had too heavy a load.” 

And while the tin pans were flying about and 
clattering on the stones the old lady climbed 
over the fence. 

“There goes the hen to her nest now!” 
shouted the children. 

“I’ll play her a tune and while she’s dancing 
you pick up the eggs and give them to Old 
Dame Trot,” cried Tom. 

Of course as soon as the music commenced the 
little hen began to dance. And when all the 
eggs were in the old lady’s basket he stopped 
playing, but the little hen was so provoked that 
she went straight home to the barnyard. 


BOBBY SHAFTO 


AS Puss, Junior, rode along on his Good Gray 
Horse he passed a pretty cottage near the 
roadway. And the roses that climbed over the 
front porch were so fragrant and the voice of 
the girl floating through the open window was 
so sweet that he stopped to listen. 

“ Bobby Shafto roams the skies 
With silver goggles on his eyes. 

A lonely girl am I who sighs 
For pretty Bobby Shafto. 

“ Bobby Shafto’s bright and fair. 

Very gay and debonair; 

He’s the king of all the air. 

Bonny Bobby Shafto. 

“ His airship is the fastest one 
That races with the golden sun, 

And when his azure voyage is done. 

Pretty Bobby Shafto 

“ He’s promised he will marry me. 

And then how happy I shall be; 

We two shall sail the starry sea, 

I and Bobby Shafto!” 

Pretty soon the owner of the lovely voice 
looked out of the window and when she saw 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


Puss she asked him to come in and sit on the 
front porch while she went for some cream. 
So Puss tied his Good Gray Horse to the hitching 



post and, oi)ening the little gate, sat down on 
the doorsteps. After he had finished drinking 
122 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


the cream she asked him to tell her where he was 
going with his lovely red-topped boots and long 
feather plume. And would he take out his 
sword and show it to her.? All this made him 
very proud, and of course he thought she was a 
lovely little girl.^ 

Well, after a while they spied an airship in 
the sky. Pretty soon it came nearer and nearer 
till finally it landed in a field close by. The 
little girl and Puss jumped up and ran as fast 
as they could across the road and through the 
fence. 

Throwing her arms around Bobby Shafto, she 
cried, “He’s the king of all the air.” 

Then he took off his silver goggles and shook 
hands with Puss, and soon they all came back 
to the little cottage and had ice cream and 
sponge cake, and Bobby Shafto fed the Good 
Gray Horse a quart of oats, and after that Puss 
said good-})y and rode away. 


LITTLE ROBIN REDBREAST 


W ELL, well!” said Puss to himself as he 
left Bobby Shafto and the little girl. 
“To think I should see an airship in Mother 
Goose country!” 

By and by he heard a little bird singing: 

“Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree. 

Up went pussy cat, and down went he; 

Down came pussj'^ cat, away Robin ran; 

Said Little Robin Redbreast, ‘Catch me if you can!’ 
Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall. 

Pussy cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall; 
Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say.^ 
Pussy cat said, ‘Mew,’ and Robin flew away.” 

“What are you trying to do.?^” asked Puss, 
Junior, stopping under the tree and looking up 
at the pussy cat. 

“I’m not trying to do anything,” replied the 
pussy cat, crossly. “I was wishing I had wings.” 

“They’d be very convenient at times,” said 
Puss, with a grin. 

“Indeed they would,” answered the pussy cat. 
“I’d rather have them than red-topped boots.” 

“Perhaps,” answered Puss. “But I have 
found my boots most helpful. Do you know,” 

he continued, “if people would be a little more 
124 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 


contented with what they have I think they’d 
get more.” 

The pussy cat looked ashamed of herself. 



‘‘What you say is very true. I suppose I 
ought to be thankful that I have such strong 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JK., AND 


claws. It’s not hard work climbing trees, and 
as for running, my legs carry me very well. 
Perhaps I don’t need wings, after all.” 

‘‘Well, I never saw a flying cat,” admitted 
Puss, Junior, “although I’ve seen some re- 
markable things since I started out to find my 
father. Puss in Boots.” 

“So you are a traveler,” said the pussy cat, 
jumping down from the wall and walking up to 
Puss. “How long have you been looking for 
your father.^ ” 

“A long, long time,” replied Puss, Junior. 
“Do you know, sometimes I almost get dis- 
couraged, for this is a big world and at times I 
feel so very, very small.” 

“Well, you come home with me,” said the 
pussy cat. “You need a good rest. I think 
you’re tired out.” 


THE ELF CHILD 


T ITTLE Miss Pussy Cat had a house 
^ That was very trim and neat. 

But, oh, dear me! there wasn’t a mouse 
For little Miss Pussy to eat, 

‘‘There's a' nice, soft cushion on the window 
seat,” she said to Puss, Junior. “Why don’t 
you take a nap.?” 

And as he was very tired with his long journey, 
he curled up and was soon fast asleep. But, oh, 
dear me! all of a sudden there came a loud knock- 
ing on the door, and when Miss Pussy opened it 
there stood a little dog with a very loud bark. 
And then, of course. Puss woke up with a start. 

“Please make him go away,” said Miss Pussy 
Cat. “I’m dreadfully afraid of dogs.” 

So Puss picked up his big stick and the little 
dog ran away as fast as he could, never again to 
bother little Miss Pussy Cat. And shall I tell 
you why.? It was because when he finally 
stopped running he found himself in the woods 
where the fairies lived. 

And when they saw him they said to one 
another, “This little dog has been up to mischief, 
for if not, why should he run so fast.?” And 
127 


PUSS IN BOOTS, JR., AND 


then the king of the fairies said, “I will see that 
he makes no further mischief,” and he waved 
his silver wand, and the little dog turned into a 
dogwood flower that blooms every year in the 
same spot under the great shady trees. 

Of course little Miss Pussy wondered for a 
long time why she never saw him, until, one day, 
Jennie Wren, who lived in the woods, told her 
what the fairies had done. 

Well, pretty soon Puss, Junior, set out once 
more to find his father, and as he went along he 
whistled a tune to keep up his spirits, when, all 
of a sudden, he heard a little low whistle. And 
there in the road, a few feet ahead, was a tiny 
little man dressed in green with a high-peaked 
hat on his head. 

“ I’ve never heard a whistling cat. 

So come to the wood with me. 

And whistle a time to my elfin child 
Under the greenwood tree.” 

Then little Puss, Junior, followed the queer 
little dwarf and by and by, after a while, they 
came to a glen in the wood where, under a great 
oak tree, sat the prettiest little elf you ever saw. 
He was playing with a gray squirrel and a striped 
chipmunk, but when he saw Puss he gave a glad 
shout and away went the squirrel and the chip- 
munk. But he didn’t care, for a cat with boots 
was something he had never seen. 

128 


THE GOOD GRAY HORSE 

“Teach him to whistle. Sir Cat,” said the 
dwarf. 

So Puss sat down by the elf child and by and 
by, just as the stars began to twinkle from the 
sky, he had taught him to whistle. And, would 
you believe it.^ it sounded like a bird, it was so 
sweet and clear. And after that Puss went on 
his way to find his father, happy to think that 
he had proved so good a music master. 

And some day, in another book, I will tell you 
how little Puss, Junior, finds his dear father. 



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